Do I Dare?
by BurntOrange
Summary: During her senior year at Dartmouth, Bella realizes that her undeniable chemistry with her professor, Dr. Cullen, cannot be controlled. BxE AU, AH.
1. There Will be Time

_This is my first fic in quite some time, so please bear with me! Also, I am ending my senior year of college so my schedule is fairly hectic, which means updates might not be regular. _

_Twilight is property of Stephenie Meyer—I own nothing. Just the thoughts in my head._

_Any literature references (including titles, phrases, etc) are property of the author and their respective publishing houses._

The classroom was abuzz on the first day of my last fall semester at Dartmouth, I could have graduated in three years, but something inside me wouldn't allow it—I wanted all four years, especially since my first three were spent either head-first in books or trying to help my now ex-boyfriend pass his biology classes. Maybe something deep down inside me wanted me to have a defining experience. Or maybe I just didn't want to grow up yet.

The class was Literary Marriages from Hell and taught by the much talked about Dr. Cullen. The title called to me—even though it wouldn't count towards my English Literature degree. I've always loved getting into the psyche of authors, finding out their backgrounds, what made them tick, and what inspired them. What could be more perfect than examining their marriages? Most of my classes focused on poetry, especially poetry from the 20th century.

My dad always shook his head whenever discussion regarding my degree came up, he understood my passion for reading, but he didn't know what I expected to do with an English Literature degree. To be honest, I didn't know either—maybe another reason I felt compelled to prolong my graduation.

Maybe I also wanted to stay because I felt at home in the English department—I loved my fellow students and my professors. They pushed me beyond my limits and by doing so allowed me to excel—several of my poems had been published in various magazines, most of them literary but one was mainstream. My latest professor, Dr. Berry from my 20th Century British Literature class, gave me my most treasured complement— "a 21st century, brunette Sylvia Plath."

Minus the whole manic depression and shoving my head in the oven thing.

The door opened and two men walked in, one with a mess of hair and another who gave off the aura of tranquility. The man with the hair stood out against the other.

It was almost like magic, how he lit up the room. Not like he was glowing, but something totally different. Most of the room snapped to attention when he entered, almost every ear was open and ready to listen to what he was going to say.

I couldn't deny that he was without a doubt one of the most beautiful men I had ever seen; of course I had heard rumors throughout the department about the deliciously beautiful Dr. Cullen—but I never really paid attention to them or gave them much merit. But they were right—every single one.

Many boys on campus tried to style their hair in the "bed head" fashion—all of them either looked stupid or tired, but not Dr. Cullen. The bronze mess of hair on top of his head suited him and, along with his fair complexion, made his green eyes stand out. He captivated me, my attention was solely on him—much like all of the other females in the classroom. No one paid attention to the other man who walked in, I think he took a seat in the back of the room. I wasn't sure.

Then, he spoke. Pulling out a stack of papers from his worn messenger bag, he started counting the sheets and passing them down the rows. "Sorry for being late, I am Dr. Cullen. Brief background on me: This is my second year teaching at Dartmouth, I got my undergraduate degree here and I studied English Literature with an emphasis in British poetry, then I got my Masters at the University of Washington where I specialized in British poetry, and finally I came back to Dartmouth and received my PhD in English and my thesis was about how Vivienne Haigh-Wood Eliot influenced T.S. Eliot's masterpiece _The Waste Land._

"This is your syllabus, please read it carefully and keep up with your assigned readings. I understand many of you are in fact not English majors, and I beg you not to worry—I will help the entire class through reading many of the pieces assigned.

"We will be studying three couples this semester: T.S. Eliot and his wife Vivienne, F. Scott Fitzgerald and his wife Zelda, and Sylvia Plath and her husband Ted Hughes. Most of our time will be spent with Eliot and Plath since they have the most 'meat,' as you could say, in the literature and the marriage.

"Please feel free to e-mail me or come to my office hours if you have any questions. I want you to have fun in this class and I hope you will learn something from it as well."

I looked at my watch, 3:37, the class was supposed to begin at 3:30. He must be a stickler for timeliness if he apologized for being less than ten minutes late. I looked at my syllabus and flipped it over to glance at the course schedule, it was blank. A quick glance around the room did not help me much—the class was full of women and every pair of eyes was glued on Dr. Cullen, not the syllabus.

I raised my hand and we made eye-contact. My stomach plummeted to the floor. He gestured towards me, "Yes…miss?"

"Swan, Bella Swan."

He grinned, "Yes, Miss Swan. Do you have a question?"

I showed him the blank side of my syllabus, "Is the back supposed to be blank?"

Dr. Cullen's grin became crooked, "No," he replied. He checked a new copy of the syllabus before handing it to me and taking my previous copy. Out fingers brushed against each other briefly and I felt my heart skip a beat and my breath hitch. How on earth could someone have this effect on me? And so quickly? Based solely on appearance?

He looked over the entire class, "Anyone else with a one-sided syllabus?" The room was heavily silent, "No? Alright." Dr. Cullen gestured to the man that he entered with who _was_ sitting in the back of the room, leaning back in a chair with a nonplussed expression on his face, "This is your T.A. for the class, Jasper Whitlock. He can also answer any questions that you may have."

Other than mine, only one head in the entire classroom turned towards the T.A., and it was the girl next to me. When turning back to the front of the room I made eye contact with her and she flashed me a brief but brilliant smile.

Dr. Cullen spoke again, "As you see, we have nothing on the schedule for today, you are free to go but please make sure you have at least glanced over _The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock_ by the next class."

With that he snapped his bag shut and slung it over his shoulder, exiting the classroom with Jasper, the T.A. The moment Dr. Cullen left, the mood of the room lightened—the chatter started up again, but this time all of the chatter was about _him._

I exhaled deeply and looked over at the girl next to me who was pixyish in figure and her dark brown hair matched her stature. She smiled at me again, "Dr. Cullen always has that effect on a classroom full of girls."

I stood up and hoisted my backpack onto my shoulders, "Always? You've taken his intro class?"

She walked next to me as we walked out of the room together, "Yeah…" followed my unintelligible mumbling. "He's very nice and very fair."

"Well I'm grateful for that, I have a feeling that senioritis will set in quickly for me." I turned to face her, "Bella." I held my hand out to her.

"Alice," she replied, shaking my hand. She smiled again, "It was lovely meeting you, see you next class!" She glided down the hall, her gait similar to someone who is a former dancer.


	2. Measure With Coffee Spoons

_Thank you so much for the kind reviews! They were a great surprise to receive in my mailbox this morning!_

_To address a question: Yes—this will be in Bella's POV for the entirety of the story, unless for some reason I am inspired to write an EPOV. But I prefer the story through one person's eyes—it keeps a bit more mystery and suspense present._

I will be the first to admit it, I am a coffee addict. I used to hate coffee—the bitter taste, the dark color, sometimes the smell even repulsed me. But then again, my first tastes of coffee were either from cold remnants in mugs left on my family's coffee table or from the occasional licks of my father's coffee ice cream. Once college came, drinking coffee became a necessity in order to get through all-nighters. Necessity then became habit. Habit then became addiction.

Which is why I decided to celebrate early dismissal from class with a cup of coffee from an on-campus kiosk. I stood in the short line, staring at the toes of my navy Tom's, absent-mindedly moving dirt from one side to the other. My thoughts were blissfully nonexistent.

"So what do you think about my class?" came a voice from behind me.

I turned my head so quickly that my ponytail whipped around and almost hit me on the face. It was Dr. Cullen. As our eyes connected I felt my stomach clench. Was I always going to feel like this whenever I saw him? Whenever he spoke to me? My hands gripped the straps of my backpack, my fingernails picking at spare, loose threads.

"H-Honestly?" I felt my breath catch and heard my voice crack.

That damned crooked smile appeared as he gave out a throaty laugh, "Is there a dishonest answer that would be more appealing?"

I nervously grinned, or attempted to grin—my stomach was housing a Mexican jumping bean and my heart was thumping so off beat that I felt faint. "I think it will be really interesting…plus we are reading some of my favorite poets."

"Poets. So you are an Eliot fan or a Plath fan?" His head was cocked to one-side, as if he were trying to figure me out.

"Both."

His crooked grin grew, making my physical reactions increase their intensity. What was with this man? Does he have some kind of pheromone that made every woman batshit crazy whenever they were near? I swear more than five seconds passed as he stared at me, finally he opened his mouth, "It's your turn," gesturing towards the cashier.

I felt a bright pink blush burn across my cheeks and I numbly handed over my three dollars and mumbled something about a small black coffee with room for milk. Edward then spoke again, "I've heard about you, Bella Swan."

I nearly spilled the coffee that was being handed to me at the moment, and I tried to turn around without falling over or doing something as mortifyingly awkward. "You've what?"

"Dr. Berry told me about you, having poems published and I have heard about some of your short stories as well. You are quite the little prodigy in the department. "

"Pr-p-prodigy?" I stuttered.

He stepped next to me. Oh dear God I could smell him. His scent was a combination of laundry detergent and a cologne that I couldn't identify—it was one of those scents that you want to keep smelling. Like if he spent the night, you wouldn't wash your sheet because the scent of his cologne makes your insides feel warm, plump, and fuzzy.

What on earth was wrong with me? _Spend the night?_ Really, REALLY?!?

I watched Dr. Cullen hand over a five dollar bill and order a large coffee, instructing the cashier to "keep the change" without a single fumble or mishap. He was entrancing. I took advantage of the moment to "take in" Dr. Cullen. Other than his unruly copper locks and emerald eyes that I noticed earlier, I tried to find other physical attributes of his. He was tall and slim, his button-down shirt fit nicely against his torso. His sleeves were rolled up and the first few buttons undone, a pair of black wire-rimmed glasses hanging off of his shirt—above the first buttoned button. And a well-worn chocolate brown leather belt wra--

I was shook from my reverie by a low chuckle.

"Just something I have heard, I am rather excited that you chose to take my class. Especially since it won't count towards your degree." He took a sip of his coffee and raised the cup towards me, almost like he was making a toast. "See you next class…Bella."

With that he walked away, leaving me in a nerve-fried stupor as I almost spilled the contents of the milk pitcher on me instead of in my coffee. In order for me to live through the semester I would have to find a way to become immune to Dr. Cullen's spell.

I wandered home in a daze, meandering through campus—stopping by points of interest on campus that I hadn't passed since my freshman year. Finally I got home and flopped myself on my couch, loudly dropping my backpack to the ground and not caring if the downstairs neighbors were disturbed by the sound.

The noise also notified my roommate, Rosalie, that I was home. She rushed into the living room with her blonde hair flying behind her.

"Where have you been?" She glanced at her watch, "Emmett and his friends are going to be over in…MINUTES to watch the game!"

I groaned, I love Rosalie—I really do. We were roommates freshman year through random pairings and we got along, nothing special but we lived together very well, so we decided to move into an apartment together our sophomore year. Years later we are good friends and still roommates. But Emmett, Rosalie's boyfriend, while sweet and big-hearted, was loud and rambunctious—making any time spent with or near him exhausting. Multiply that by ten when college football gets involved.

"Rosalie. It's the first day of class. Plus, we're not even playing…it's some random game."

"Don't you let Emmett hear you say that. You know he follows all major conferences like it is his job." She straightened a stack of my magazines that were on the coffee table, "You alright? You seem sort of…out of it."

As self-involved Rosalie had a tendency of being, she was a good friend—she could read me like a book and always knew when something was wrong.

I shrugged her comment off, "Nothing really…"

"Spit it out, Swan. You seem frazzled."

I felt my cheeks turn pink, "I think I have the hots for my professor."

Rosalie rolled her eyes and started preparing snack food in the kitchen. "Finally. I mean seriously, Bella. Everyone lusts after their professor sometime they are at college. Plus, it is about time you show interest in someone other than Mike Newton. He is such a moron, I have no idea what you saw in him."

Chuckling, I focused on fidgeting with the stray threads on the buttons of my coat. "Yeah…I don't know. I think Mike was a matter of convenience—always here anyways because of Emmett…"

The kitchen became a cacophony of noise and various smells as somewhere under her tough, boyish shell—the inner domestic of Rosalie came out. She "mhmmmed" as she cut, chopped, stirring, and heated things up. Finally a full sentence came out, "So how hot is he? Like, is he suave like George Clooney or is he a pretty boy like…Chase Crawford?"

I propped myself up on my forearms and watched Rosalie whirl around the kitchen like it was a well-rehearsed dance. A smile slowly crept across my face as I replied, "Rosalie…he is like nothing I have ever seen before."

She paused and grinned, taking a bite of a baby carrot and thoughtfully munching before replying, "Well then, you must sleep with him."

My jaw dropped and before I could ask or say anything else Emmett, Mike, and the rowdy crew of burly men (for the most part—Mike is an exception) came bursting into our apartment, loudly debating if Oregon could be defeated by UTEP.

I flopped back down on the couch, this semester would be long.


	3. To Prepare a Face

_To all of the reviews—THANK YOU!_

_To all of my lovely fans at The_Gazebo: I love you all so much and your support means so much! Mel and Alicia—this is updated so soon because of YOU._

_I hope you all enjoy this chapter, it isn't my favorite but it will pave the way to several fun chapters!_

_Like I said earlier—SMeyer owns Twilight, publishing houses own the rights to the other poems/works that I refer to, and I own…a black MacBook, The Office Season 5 DVDs, and a fabulous green coat._

Thursday came, and so did my next class with Dr. Cullen. I did what he asked, skim over Prufrock, I didn't need to read since I had read the poem countless times before in multiple classes and knew it as comfortably as any undergraduate student could know Eliot.

I got to class early, determined to psych myself out for whenever Dr. Cullen walked into the room. I would not be distracted by his good looks or his scent.

Scent. If I were able to smell him when he walked through the door I would have far greater issues on hand.

I took a deep breath and steeled myself. I could do this, I am a 21, almost 22, year old woman who is independent and will not falter under the gaze of _any_ man.

The door opened. I held my breath. It was Alice. I released my breath and judging by the noises surrounding me, I was not the only person waiting for Dr. Cullen with baited breath. Alice made eye contact with me and smiled, sliding into the seat next to me. Her trendy all-black outfit made her look a little taller, but not by much.

She propped her chin up with the heel of her palm, her elbow almost teetering on the edge of her desk. Grinning again, she said, "Have you had a good day thus far?"

I smiled in response and nodded, "Yeah. And you?"

"Great." She pulled her satchel into her lap and started digging through it, pulling out a pen with a victorious grin. She looked back at me, "So Bella, what major are you?"

"English Lit, what about yourself?"

"Interesting…I am a Film and Media Studies major. But my true passion is fashion, I hope that once I graduate I can move to LA and be a costume designer or something fabulous like that. But I don't know if my family would like it tha—" She paused and sheepishly grinned, "I am terribly sorry, I got carried away. What do you plan to do after graduation?"

I shook my head and chuckled briefly, "No idea. My dad wants me to go back home and tea—"

"Where's home?"

"Oh, just a small town in Northern Washington state…Forks." I cleared my throat, "My dad wants me to come back and teach."

"But what do you want to do, Bella?"

"I don't kn—" the door opened.

It was him. And immediately my heartbeat increased in tempo and my hands became clammy. Obviously today would not be the day that I become immune to Dr. Cullen's spell. His effect was like Tuesday—the noise in the room quieted and the attention to the TA who followed behind Dr. Cullen was minimal.

"Good afternoon everyone, hope your first week back has been enjoyable." He pulled out several sheets of paper, "I am passing an attendance sheet—please sign your name, last name first. Also, I am giving you two timelines for background information. One is for the Modernist literary time period and another is the life of T.S. Eliot. Become familiar with them—they will help you on your test."

He grinned and leaned against the table placed in the front of the room. "So, let's talk about Prufrock. What did you think?" Dr. Cullen rolled up his sleeves and waited for someone to speak, his grin became crooked, "C'mon…anyone like it? It's one of my favorite poems but I won't hold it against you if you don't feel the same."

A lock of his hair fell into one of his eyes and he made no move to brush it aside. Dear Lord, this man was intoxicating. Finally a girl shakily raised her hand and after being called on she giggled and rambled something about the first three lines…something about they were interruptive and didn't flow.

_It's called Modernism. Eliot invented it._ I shoved my pen cap into my mouth—partly as an attempt not to interrupt and be a know-it-all and partly to keep myself from drooling over Dr. Cullen. I told myself to be nice and keep my mouth shut—it could also keep me from embarrassing myself in front of Dr. Cullen.

To say Dr. Cullen looked sexy while leaning against the desk with his arms crossed would be an understatement. I was gnawing on my pen cap with increasing vigor as the class progressed.

If you asked me what was said during the rest of the class, I wouldn't have a clue. My notes were mostly random doodles that I drew when I wasn't munching on my pen.

Near the end of class, Dr. Cullen strolled up to my desk with a smirk on his face. "So, Bella….Jessica over there mentioned the repetition of the line 'Do I dare?' What do you think he dares to do?"

That smirk did me in, I felt and heard my pen cap crack as I bit down. Hard.

I removed the pen from my mouth and gulped—hoping any salvia in my mouth would not dribble out. "Well it depends on how you read the poem…a decision about war could mean shooting a gun or joining the army. However, reading this about Prufrock being unable to make a decision regarding women it can either be having sex—'pushing the moment to its crisis' and considering Eliot's relationship with Vivienne, it could be asking for her hand in marriage."

Dr. Cullen smiled widely, "Yes. Exactly." He glanced around the class and looked back down at me, "Care to share the literary reference to 'push the moment to its crisis?'"

"It is from 'To His Coy Mistress.'"

"Excellent." Dr. Cullen stepped next to my desk and rested his fingertips on my desk. I stared at them as he told the class to re-read Prufrock and to prepare for _The Waste Land_. His fingernails were clean, not bitten and his cuticles were…why was I studying his cuticles? Why did it matter?

People were standing up, packing their bags and Dr. Cullen had already turned back to his table when Alice's voice came through the low buzz of the classroom.

"Bella, you seem incredibly proficient at this poetry and I am terrible. Would you mind meeting with me sometime?"

I looked over at her, "Sure."

She beamed, "Great! Where are you off to? Maybe it is on my way…."

"Um…maybe coffee…I don't know," I stammered.

"Great! I'll join you!" She jumped out of her seat and grabbed her bag with too much energy for someone who was in class all day. We had no less than a moment of meaningless chatter before I saw her glance over at Dr. Cullen and Jasper who were at the opposite end of the hall. "Actually Bella, I might give you a rain check for the coffee…I have a uhh---question…." She started to stride down the hall towards Dr. Cullen and Jasper.

Shrugging, I turned and entered the stairwell, trying to figure out how to become more impervious to the mysterious spell that Dr. Cullen had on me. I was about one flight from the exit when I heard "BELLA! Wait!" Turning around, I saw Alice flying down the stairs after me. I was scared that she would fall since Alice was one of the few girls who wore heels to class.

"Alice? You don't have to join me…"

"Don't be silly!" She linked arms with me, "Let's go get coffee!" We approached the exit and she shoved the door open, "They do serve tea, right?"

We got to the coffee kiosk and I followed Alice through my peripheral vision as I dug loose bills from my bag. I looked up and found myself looking straight into Dr. Cullen's eyes.

Damn.

"Why, it seems like we frequent the same coffee places."

"I uh….yeah. Where did Alice go?"

He glanced over his shoulder and smirked at me, "Talking to Jasper."

I looked over his shoulder and saw Alice chatting with Jasper, flipping her short hair to and fro and using animated gestures. Was this Alice flirting? I didn't know her well enough to be sure.

Edward chuckled, "So, I guess we will keep bumping into each other here or one of us will find a new place to feed their addiction."

"You mean, you will find a new place." Oh my, where did that come from? I hope it did not sound as bitchy as it did to me. I wished more than anything, more than my heartbeat to slow, that I could reach out and take that comment back.

To my surprise, he smirked. That damn smirk was becoming my favorite expression—beating the crooked smile. "Well, I see someone has a territorial streak. But answer me this---Tuesday I was behind you in line, and today I am in front of you in line. Seems quite even to me."

"I've been coming here since my sophomore year—so mine." Gah!! I want to yank that comment back too. What was with me today?!?!

That damn man kept smirking, "Good point. However, Miss Swan, you are forgetting that I got my PhD here…so my tenure exceeds yours." He stepped up to the cashier, "What are you getting?"

"Excuse me?"

Dr. Cullen gestured towards the menu, "To drink. I am assuming that is your purpose here—not to harass me."

I knew my cheeks instantly turned red, "No! I don't mean to harass you…I just…"

He laughed, throwing his head back. "I was just teasing. Now, what coffee do you want?"

"Umm…small, with room for milk."

He grinned and winked at me before ordering our coffees and paying the cashier. My heart palpitated. He winked. Did he really just do that? I wish it wasn't breezy today—I needed to fan myself.

"Here you go," he handed me my coffee, which I accepted with a shaking hand. I muttered a thank you and put all of my concentration into pouring a sugar packet into my coffee.

"I umm…" I started to nervously fidget with my hair, which soon turned into repeatedly sweeping stray locks behind my ears. "Thanks for the coffee….I need to go….see you next class."

"See you next week Bella."

I tried to walk away as quickly as possible without looking like I was running away. Alice quickly caught up behind me, "Bella! Give me your number! I'd love to have lunch sometime this weekend! Or shopping! Or…are you okay?"

"What? Oh um…yeah." My mind was fried—I did not know how to compute smirks, winks, and coffee purchases from Dr. Cullen. I am sure my mind was just playing tricks on me—that had to be it. Right? _RIGHT, _my mind replied back. To itself. Oh dear God, I was internally talking to myself—this could not be healthy.

"Ah, I see that Dr. Cullen has an effect on you, I think he's really ni—"

"He bought me coffee," I blurted out—needing to share it with someone.

Alice slowly smiled, "Excellent."


	4. Drop a Question

_Once again, another lovely THANK YOU to my fabulous fans at The_Gazebo. If anyone is looking for a group of amazing people with fairly amazing taste in fanfic—check them out!_

_Mel, Tor, Alicia—you twats are amazing. MUAH! I am guessing you will be given a shoutout in every A/N. :o)_

_To every review: thank you, every single one makes me smile (and makes work a bit happier for me)._

_Like said previously—SMeyer owns Twilight, publishing houses own stuff, and I own…an amazing Chanel J12 fake watch, a yellow chenille pillow, a pair of purple suede Stuart Weitzman peep-toe pumps._

The next week followed close suit to the previous—I would attend Dr. Cullen's class every Tuesday and Thursday afternoon and Alice would accompany me to the coffee kiosk where she would flirt with Jasper and I would try not to drool over Dr. Cullen.

Our conversations that week were nothing of consequence, a brief banter about a debate or discussion from class. Like my typical self, I spoke without thinking and many times wanted to yank the words I just said out of the air. But the amazing thing about Dr. Cullen was that no matter what I said, no matter how surprising it was, he either laughed it off or dished it right back to me.

My reaction to his presence has yet to subside, but they have evolved. My heart still beats wildly whenever we are in the same room or in near vicinity of each other, but if he is lecturing my legs get jittery—making me always needing to move my legs or feet. Usually I end up with my ankles cross with one foot twitching. Whenever we are near each other getting coffee, my hands get clammy and something happens psychologically where I feel the need to have them constantly be doing something.

The strangest thing was that I felt like something about Dr. Cullen was haunting me. Friday was the first night I dreamt of Dr. Cullen. The dream was nothing spectacular, rather simple actually—there was a rapping at my door and when I opened it, there he was on my front door stoop. I woke up before anything else happened, but I jolted upright in my bed rather quickly and I found myself covered in a thin sheen of sweat and panting heavily.

I dreamt of him again on Sunday evening. And this dream…to say it was graphic would be an understatement. Monday morning Rosalie walked into the kitchen with a smirk on her face while I was trying to will the coffee maker to brew faster.

"So…last night…" she said.

"What?" I snapped. I wanted, nay needed, my caffeine.

"Next time you want some self-loving time, keep it down a little."

My head snapped up so quickly I felt something pop, "Excuse me?"

"I heard you. Moa---"

"Got it. I uh…" I was stammering for an answer, I knew what Rosalie was thinking. "I wasn't. It was a dream. I swear. I swear on…" my eyes fell on the beta fish we had on the kitchen counter, "I swear on Pookie's life, it was a dream."

Rosalie smirked, "Fine, I believe you. Must have been one hell of a dream though. Was it about Professor Makes-Bella-Swoon?"

I glared at her and tersely replied, "Yes."

Monday slowly dragged by, and so did most of Tuesday. Finally, time came around for Dr. Cullen's class. I was fearful for his arrival, hoping that my memorable dream would affect my behavior during and after class. Alice must have noticed something was off with me, she kept asking if I were alright—I replied vaguely or would brush off her questioning.

He walked in. Instantly several images from my dream whirled in my mind and I felt a hot blush cover my face. I tried to slouch down in my seat and burrow my head down, pretending that my notes from the week were the most fascinating thing in the room.

I don't know how long I avoided his gaze, but when I looked up we instantly made eye contact and he half-smiled, with his head cocked to the side as if he were trying to figure out what was going on within my mind.

He then began class, and I had been looking forward to this class for a week—we had already begun discussing _The Waste Land_, but today—TODAY—we were discussing my favorite part, A Game of Chess. Something inside me told me that this was probably Dr. Cullen's favorite part as well, he had his sleeves rolled up, his black-wired glasses were perched on top of his head, he was pacing back and forth in the front of the room, and his worn copy of the book was folded so he could focus on one page at a time. He was making spastic gestures to emphasize his points and would recite his favorite lines imitating T.S. Eliot's voice.

Another pen cap would be demolished today.

"Then, following is this amazing, most amazing line. Listen…" Dr. Cullen pulled his glasses off of his head and slipped them over his nose before reading " 'I think we are in rats' alley

Where the dead men lost their bones.' " His head snapped up to look at the class. "This line is so famous from _The Waste Land_. What do you guys think 'rats' alley' is?"

Silence fell over the classroom as it had since we began reading _The Waste Land_, every so often someone would take a stab at analyzing a portion of the poem or looking closely at a line, but not many.

"Anyone?" He sighed and had a look of defeat. Dr. Cullen took off his glasses and put them back on the crown of his head, "Bella?" He rested against the desk, his book sitting on it next to him, with his hands propping him up.

I swear moments from my dream were still in my sub-consciousness as I answered, "I read in a literary journal a while ago that the two lines could symbolize a female devouring a male's…sexual organ." Why, oh WHY did I have to say that?

The classroom was deathly silent again. I fought my damndest to not blush as Dr. Cullen and I looked at each other eye-to-eye—almost like a staring contest. His jaw was dropped, eyes wide, but slowly he smiled. "Anything else Miss Swan?"

I nodded and replied, "Or 'rats' alley' could be a reference to trench warfare."

He grinned and nodded, "That's a bit more of my train of thought." We held each other's gaze for a few more moments before he pushed off of the desk, picked up his book and continued lecture, "Now the nervous woman keeps talking…"

I zoned out for the rest of class. That behavior was not typical of me—usually I tried not to share or infer sexual references within texts, unless it was blindly apparent. Goodness knows what Dr. Cullen thought of my statement or me. Something about that man just made me say whatever was on my mind—whether it be appropriate or not.

The bell rang. I packed up my bag as Alice giggled at my comment during class, saying it was "ballsy and absolutely hilarious."

I disagreed, but didn't let her know that. We were about to exit the room before Dr. Cullen spoke, "Miss Swan, I was hoping we could further our discussion from class. I am interested to see how you interpret other lines of _The Waste Land_. "

Advice from Rosalie of years past echoed in my head, "Don't be too available. Don't play hard to get, but don't play easy to get."

I shook my head, "Sadly Dr. Cullen I have a lot of reading I need to catch up on. Perhaps some other time."

He slowly nodded, "Of course. See you next class. Bella. Alice." He nodded once after addressing each of us before we left. I bid Alice good-bye and sought after soothing my coffee addiction by another medium—Starbucks.


	5. Taking of a Toast and Tea

**OMG. Thank you for all of the reviews—they mean so much to me and it was so nice seeing them in my inbox this morning!**

**Thank you to: The_Gazebo—you ladies are amazing, my fellow _twats for all of their support, every reviewer, and to my personal cheering section of three very special people. Our latest group chat was a highlight of my week.**

**SMeyer owns Twilight, people own other stuff, Starbucks owns Starbucks, and I own two Joshua Radin albums, an Eiffel Tower lamp, and a frame for the degree that I do not have. Yet.**

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Starbucks. It's a rather glorious place—large, plush chairs, the scent of coffee wafting in the air, and the sounds of soothing music can help anyone be productive in their studies. I was elbow-deep in German reading and assignments. With a trusty latte at my side and keeping my current pace, I calculated that I wouldn't have to be stationed at Starbucks for too long.

In the midst of my conjugation flow, out of my periphery I saw someone slowly walk by my plush chair before sitting down in the one across me.

I looked up and looked into an oh-so-familiar pair of piercing green eyes.

"Too busy for me, but not too busy for coffee?" Dr. Cullen smirked and placed his hand over his heart, "Oh, you wound me."

I held up my German textbook, cover facing him, "I never said I didn't have enough time for coffee, just a conversation with you regarding _The Waste Land._"

"Detail-driven, I see." He was still smirking, damn him. Dr. Cullen took a sip of his drink, his eyes almost sparkling as he grinned into his cup. "So…German. Interesting. I would have pegged you as more of a…uhh…" he drummed his fingers on the armrest. "I could see you more of a Latin person. Or French."

I tried to keep my eyes on my notebook and swallow my rapidly beating heart as I felt it travel up my esophagus. "I took French in high school…plus I've always wanted to learn German." My handwriting was barely legible when he was near and I had a death grip on my pen so he would not see my shaking hand.

"I suppose I can see that." Dr. Cullen leaned back in his chair and sighed before saying, "Plus knowing German would make reading some of Eliot easier." He paused, "And would add something extra to 'Ich, ich, ich, ich, I could hardly speak.'"

If I had a pencil in my hand it would have been broken into a pile of jagged splinters. His looks, his voice, his passion for British poetry, and his Eliot impersonation were matters of one thing. But quoting my favorite poem of all time—that was an entirely different matter. Desperately in my mind I struggled—trying to find a line to quote back at him. But none of them seemed appropriate.

Instead I grinned ear-to-ear before taking a long sip of my latte. Dr. Cullen grinned back. And we were sitting like that for who knows how long before he leaned over and took a stack of paper out of his messenger bag and started marking the pages.

"What are you doing?"

"Grading some quizzes."

"But…we haven't had any quizzes."

He reached his hand into his bag, digging for something. "Yes, but I teach an Intro to English class. And they had a quiz this morning." He brought a glasses case out of his bag and put his glasses on before continuing to grade. Glancing up at me for a moment, he said "Please, feel free to continue your studies. We both have busy lives and things to do."

I nodded and returned to my German, but would glance up at Dr. Cullen from time to time. His face seemed so stoic while grading—I didn't know how to read that. Was it distance he was creating during grading or was he not that interested in the subject matter?

We continued liked that for another thirty minutes—him quickly grading quizzes and me completing my German assignments and reading. I was done sooner than I thought I would be, but I didn't want to leave. Yet. There was this draw that Dr. Cullen had—I couldn't explain it and I couldn't help it, but there was something about him that drew me to him.

So instead of leaving, I worked on the next week's assignments—still continuing my pattern of looking up at him every once in a while. I realized that after being so close to him, my over-the-top physical reactions subsided. Instead of my body organs going haywire, I felt something entirely different. My stomach had butterflies, but the rest of my body felt content.

He caught me too. A crooked grin crosses his face as he checked off a paper, "See something you like, Bella?"

My heart palpitated, but then recovered. "No." Oh SHIT! "No! I mean yes…NO! I mean ummm…can you rephrase the question?"

He laughed and set the stack of quizzes on the table between us, resting his glasses on top of the papers. "Is this intimidating for you?"

I sheepishly grinned, "It is always awkward talking to someone in charge of your grade."

Dr. Cullen thoughtfully nodded, "I can definitely see that. But my bark is worse than my bite, trust me on that." He sat up and patted my hand, "I'm fairly harmless compared to other professors you have had. This whole intimidation thing is in the teacher handbook."

I giggled before looking him in the eye, his hand still on top of mine. The contact didn't send a rush of electricity or lighting bolts through my body. Instead I felt like every ion in my body was charged and humming—similar to a runner's high (but without the running and sweating).

Then, before I could stop myself I heard the words exiting my mouth, "Are you hitting on me?" NO NO! Bad Bella! Bad! A miniature Bella was playing tug of war with Mother Nature in my head—trying to reverse the words from ever existing.

Dr. Cullen quickly removed his hand and I saw his face pale before a light pink blush rise in his cheeks. "Am I---what?" His voice was stuttering, and he reached for his coffee. But instead of gracefully grasping it and taking a sip, he ended up spilling it all over his shirt.

"Oh shit!" He glanced up at me sheepishly, "Pardon my language…" He looked lost, eyes darting around as if he were looking for something.

"Oh!" I exclaimed before bolting to the bar—grabbing a large stack of napkins. I quickly asked a barista to bring a cup of water to me before returning to my seat. "Here…" I set the stack between us, both of our hands grabbing napkins. I tried to help him blot up his shirt.

"I don't normally do this, just so you know…" he smiled up at me before returning to his shirt.

I thanked the barista who brought us a cup of water, before returning Dr. Cullen's smile. "Oh, I just assumed that this was you trying to be less intimidating."

A small smirk became present, "I am going to pretend to agree with you. " He blotted at the stains, "Any other questions for me?"

"Yes."

He looked up at me, "Let's make sure my coffee is not in the danger zone before you ask me anything."

"Why did you say you are glad I took your class, especially since I won't receive credit for it?"

Dr. Cullen set the coffee-dampened napkin that was in his hand on the table, "Because the class doesn't go towards your degree you have nothing to lose. You can say what you want and think what you want. You aren't trying to make me happy so I can give you a good grade. Plus it means that you are taking this class because you find it interesting or because you are that passionate about the subject matter." He picked up a fresh napkin and started re-blotting, "And I happen to find that rather refreshing."

He looked down at his shirt, "Well, I think that I need to go home and do something about my shirt." He packed his bag and stood up, "I look forward to the rest of the semester—I think we'll learn a lot about each other." Slinging his bag over his head he nodded, "See you on Thursday…Bella."


	6. Seen The Moment Of My Greatness Flicker

**OMG! So many reviews! I love every single review and am so grateful that you guys are so supportive of my story!**

**Thanks to The_Gazebo, as always, for being so supportive! I swear, you mention my story and I shutter. ***** winks * **

**I am not sure if wherever you are has this tradition, but in Austin, TX it is tradition for the birthday girl to wear a tiara on her birthday while getting fairly obliterated. Let's also ignore any potential anachronism that might be present in this chapter in regards to music…**

**SMeyer owns Twilight, blah blah blah….I own: copies of all of Emily Giffin's books, several bottles of OPI nail polish from the **_**La France**_** collection, and a clip fan that is near my bed.**

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Thursday. It was quickly becoming my favorite day of the week, I somehow lucked out and had no Friday classes, and so my weekend became three days instead of two. But also I liked it because I was able to end my week with my favorite class and my semester's favorite professor.

I entered the classroom and oddly, Alice had arrived before me. She was looking glamorously trendy as always—today she was wearing knee-high brown leather boots, a matching collar-less leather jacket, a white shirt, and dark skinny jeans. No matter what she wore, I felt rather plain around her. However, that usually ended once she spoke—Alice had this talent where if she was talking to you, you felt like the only person in the room.

Smoothing my navy, cotton jacket that I had recently purchased, I sat next to Alice. "Hey…how are you d—"

"Shhhh!!" Alice waved her hand in my direction as she stared forward.

I looked around the room and watched the people filter in before turning back to Alice, "Excuse me?"

Alice put a finger to her lips and jerked her head towards the direction of the people behind us. I glanced behind us and saw two girls talking, unaware that Alice was eavesdropping. Turning my body to face Alice, I listened in as well—curious to hear what Alice was so determined to listen to…

"I doubt she really did that, Alicia," said one girl.

"Mel, I am deadly serious when I say that Tor has it so bad for Jasper the TA that she did that." Out of my periphery I saw her nod before continuing, "She decided to go in and see him during his office hours yesterday. But Tor showed up early and surprised him when he got there. Some words were exchanged and she made it _clear_ that she wasn't wearing any panties…"

"OMIGOD!" the one whom I assumed was 'Mel' gasped before the other girl shushed her—saying that it would be better not to cause a scene.

I wanted to hear what happened but Alice turned towards me with a woebegone expression on her face. "Who is this Tor character?" she whispered venomously, "And what does she want with Jasper?"

Shaking my head I shrugged, I wanted to keep eavesdropping in order to figure what happened and what the conclusion of the story was. But of course that was the moment Dr. Cullen strode into the classroom.

The first thing I noticed was that Jasper was not present today, then I realized that the air conditioner in the room was on. So my twisted mind had to compute Dr. Cullen walking into the room with a breeze, making his hair fly in assorted directions.

I sighed. All that was needed was angelic light and cheesy entrance music that was from _Scrubs_ or a romcom. I looked at Alice's face, she looked obviously crestfallen that Jasper was not present today. Class began and I noticed that Dr. Cullen did not look at me, in fact the entirety of the class passed and he did not even call on me—not even when others had problems interpreting lines.

Could this be a repercussion of my open mouth, insert foot moment at Starbucks? Was he now trying to create distance? Or was he simply not calling on me or looking at me by pure coincidence? I hoped it was the later.

Class concluded and Alice slung her large Longchamps bag on her shoulder, "I'm in the mood for hot chocolate, let's go Bella."

I nodded and we walked down the stairs in silence. It was a rather melancholy silence—she was mourning the absence of Jasper and I….I was mourning the lack of attention from Dr. Cullen. I supposed I never quite realized how much I liked it or thrived on it. Until now.

We arrived at the kiosk and I paid for Alice's hot chocolate and my coffee. We sat down next to each other on a nearby bench and people watched for a while. It was a mute commiseration between us.

I decided to break the silence, "Alice…I said, clearing my throat. "My birthday is tomorrow and my roommate and a few friends are planning on d=going out for a few drinks. Would you like to join us?"

Alice turned towards me, her eyes sparkling, "Of course Bella!" She grinned, "I'd love to! What time are you heading out? Where should I meet you?"

"Um…I don't know. Why don't you just meet up with us at my apartment around….teni-ish?" I took my notebook out of my bag and tore out a sheet of paper, writing my apartment complex address and apartment number on it, "Here, this is were I live…"

"Perfect! I am SO excited!" She clapped before folding the paper and placing it in her bag. "I love birthdays!"

"Birthdays?" interrupted a male voice. "Is someone having a birthday soon?"

Alice and I snapped our heads in the direction of the voice, it was Dr. Cullen. Without thinking I grinned ear-to-ear and nodded. Alice spoke up before I could, "Tomorrow is Bella's birthday!"

Dr. Cullen smiled and raised the thermos in his hand towards me, "Well happy early birthday Bella. I hope you have an enjoyable day tomorrow." With a nod to each of us, he kept walking and the further he got, the warmth that I felt inside for the few moments he was near subsided.

Alice turned to face me, squeezing my arm. "I must go shopping for a gift! See you tomorrow night at ten Bella!"

Before I could tell her a gift was unnecessary Alice was running off, leaving me alone on the bench.

Friday morning came and Rosalie surprised me by waking me up with breakfast in bed. She made me coffee with our rarely used French press and woke up early to pick up eggs benedict from my favorite restaurant in Hanover. Rosalie also placed three cheerful gerbera daises in a small vase that was placed on my breakfast tray.

I cheerfully ate my breakfast in bed with Rosalie reclining next to me, watching our favorite morning television—The Price is Right. She had the knack of knowing the prices for all of the jewelry, vacations, and cars while I knew the prices of household items and other items that could be found in a grocery store.

After I finished eating, Rosalie presented several beautifully wrapped boxes. Knowing Rosalie, the presents were extravagant and of designer origin.

And I was right. By the time all of the wrapping and ribbons were thrown away I had a small mountain of boxes in my room, boxes that held a pair of Stuart Weitzman heels, a Chloe bag, and several items from La Perla. Each time I told her it was all too much, Rosalie would shrug and say that it wasn't too much for her. It was times like these that I was envious of Rosalie—not having to bat an eye of worry about money with her dad being a VP of an oil company, she would never tell me which one.

Her presents weren't over; Rosalie drove me to her favorite day spa and dropped me off—threatening me with bodily harm if I complained. With that she left me there as I received an over-the-top luxury treatment—my nails, toes, hair, eyebrows, and pretty much anything I could conceive of was done. I was massaged, plucked, trimmed, and pampered. By the time Rosalie picked me up I expected for dinner to be at some restaurant where the name and menu would be in French. But instead, she pleasantly surprised me with dinner being delivered pizza with peanut butter and Oreos as dessert while we watched the A&E version of _Pride and Prejudice._

We didn't get all the way through it, by nine o'clock I was standing in front of my closet—trying to figure out what to wear. I finally decided on wearing the new heels that Rosalie gave me with a simple asymmetrical black dress that skimmed right above my knees.

Rosalie popped a bottle of champagne that was delicious and probably cost too much, but in true Rosalie style, she shushed me and dropped several raspberries in my flute before instructing me to "enjoy it, damnit."

About ten minutes to ten my friend Angela arrived; she was barely able to give me her gift (a coffee thermos with pictures of several of my friends decorating it) before Rosalie thrust a flute at her.

Then at ten o'clock came Alice, in a bright sequined purple sheath and a large gift bag in hand. She kissed me on both cheeks and gladly accepted a flute of champagne as she met Rosalie and Angela. Then she demanded a short tour of the apartment, which ended in my room, with her admiring some of my random trinkets and the gifts that Rosalie gave me.

Her small hand pulled a small rectangular present from the massive gift bag, "Here. Happy birthday!"

I thanked her and concentrated on unwrapping the gift, as the last piece fell to the floor I looked at what was in my hands.

"_The Bell Jar?"_ I asked.

Alice nodded her head and gently opened the book that had a clear dust jacket on it, "My brother and I were in an antique bookstore today in Grafton. We saw it and I knew it was perfect for you."

My vision started to swirl as tears were forming, the words "First Edition" jumped off of the page. I looked up at Alice, "How did you know?"

"Know what? Plath?" She shrugged, "You are in the class and so much of it is Plath. For someone not getting credit, you _have_ to be a Plath fan."

I gently set the book on my desk and enveloped Alice in a tight hug, "This is the best present anyone has ever given me."

Rosalie and Angela walked in, Rosalie shaking her head, "I swear Alice, if you made her ruin her mascara, I might hurt you."

Alice immediately dropped her arms, "Bella! Stop crying!" She grabbed a tissue off of my bedside table and started dabbing it under my eyes, "I think we can get away with not having to do any serious damage control." She turned to Rosalie, "I didn't want to impose, but did you get her a crown or anything?"

Rosalie's eyes grew wide, "I forgot! Bella, I am so sorry!"

Alice's tinkering laugh filled the room, "I got her one just in case!"

Before I could refuse, a glittering tiara was placed on my head and some bright fuchsia sash that read "Birthday Girl" in silver glitter was draped across my chest. One more flute of champagne was consumed relatively quickly before I was ushered out and shoved into a taxi where our perfumes mixed in the limited air and created an overpowering scent.

We went to several bars and I had too many drinks to count and danced on two too many bars that I wanted…but Alice and Rosalie became a heinously beautiful team that got along too well and wanted me to celebrate a bit too much. They worked together talking to strangers, persuading them to buy me drinks—which led to them getting free drinks as well. In retrospect, I think that Alice and Rosalie probably had a better time on my birthday than I did. But I wouldn't complain—I was celebrating a day with some of my favorite people.

Sometime during the night I turned to Rosalie and asked where Emmett was, our original plans for the night included him. She laughed and said it was better as a girls' night—especially since he would have brought Mike Newton with him. Which then led into a conversation between Rosalie and Alice, where Alice was being filled in on who exactly was Mike Newton and how I knew him. Which I tried to ignore before Angela almost fell asleep on a bar stool.

After discussion that was rather hazy to me, it was agreed: Rosalie would help Angela to her boyfriend's place and Alice would accompany me home. So Alice and I waved goodbye to Angela and Rosalie when they got into their taxi. As the taxi drove off Alice turned to me, with a wicked smile on her face.

"What?" I asked.

"It's twenty minutes to last call."

"So?"

"Want to get one more drink?"

I shrugged, already fairly intoxicated. "Why not?"

Alice nodded and led me to a bar, where she set her credit card in the bar and ordered, "Four tequila shots. Patron."

"WHAT?!?!" I screeched. "I thought you said one drink—not four!"

Alice giggled, "Two. Two for me, two for you. Plus, they are faster than actual drinks." She looked up at the bartender, "Salt and lime please."

Four shot glasses were lined up, rims covered in salt. Then there were five glasses—one had lime slices in it. One shot. Tap. Lick. Shoot. Bite. The tequila felt warm going down my throat and my stomach felt suddenly hot.

Alice was getting increasingly giggly. She turned to me, "Bella, I have to admit something."

I sloppily nodded and gestured for her to go on.

"I have a thing for Jasper…our TA."

I laughed. Laughed so hard that I nearly fell over. "I know that silly!! You aren't very good at hiding that fact!" We giggled loudly some more before I spoke up again, "And if it makes you feel any better Alice, I really, _really_ like Dr. Cullen."

She giggled some more, "Stop saying the obvious Bella! Let's take our last shot!"

Shot two did not go down so easily. In fact it almost came back up. After sucking my lime until the bare remnants remained, I was coughing to hard that Alice ordered me a glass of water, which I drained quickly.

"Alice." I practically had to shout over the hullabaloo of the bar, "How are we getting home? I'm out of cash!"

She signed the receipt and smiled, "I'll call my brother—he lives nearby."

"Are you sure? He won't mind?"

She laughed again, throwing her head back, "He does this all the time for me Bella!"

I shrugged and we exited the bar. Alice called her brother, when she tossed her iPhone into her purse she grinned, "About five minutes."

I nodded slowly, the tequila shots slowly creeping up on me. We could still hear the music from the bar, and then suddenly bars that are familiar with every drunk person floated through the air.

"Alice…do I hear?"

"Yes you do!"

We must have been a spectacle for al of the drunk and sober people nearby, two very intoxicated girls bouncing up and down while wearing massive heels. Plus I was wearing a crooked tiara with the sash almost falling off of my shoulder. Then add in that we were singing along to "Sweet Caroline" and belting out the additional lines that every drunk does.

A silver car pulled up in front of us during the last "BOM BOM BOMMM!!" that we drunkenly belted out, swaying together—shoulder to shoulder, arms around each other's waists. The song ended and the driver gave out a short honk, which we ignored—especially since we heard the first bars of the next song—"Just Dance."

We immediately broke apart and started to dance, for me it was probably a violent drunken mess, but Alice looked incredibly graceful as we sang along and danced. The chorus came, and I did the typical white girl dance: arms in air while bouncing/jumping. Alice, however, was doing an incredibly fluid job vogue-ing.

"Alice! Get in the damn car before I take a picture."

At the sound of that voice my blood ran cold and for the next ninety seconds, I swear that I was sober. It was Dr. Cullen, leaning against a silver Volvo, his hair mussed as usual, jeans slung low on his waist, and a grey t-shirt that looked oh-so-soft stretching across his chest. We had eye-contact, "Bella." He said, the corners of his mouth rising into a smile, "Hope you are having a good birthday. Let's get you home."

I looked at Alice, who was semi-frozen in a rather hilarious position. I tried my best not to yell, I don't know what volume my voice was, but I was almost too stunned to care. "Alice…is Dr. Cullen your brother?"

She sheepishly grinned, "Surprise!" Alice ran towards the car and flung herself into the backseat, Dr. Cullen was already holding the back door open for us. Alice scooted in and I walked by Dr. Cullen, my face probably the color my sash, "Thanks," I murmured.

He grinned, "You reek of tequila Bella, what did my sister do to you?"

I sat down and Dr. Cullen shut the door. I numbly put the seat belt on and leaned my head against the cool window. The second tequila shot making me blissfully numb. Dr. Cullen got in the drivers seat, "Where are we going?" Alice blindly dug through her purse before getting frustrated and dumping its entire contents in the backseat. He loudly groaned when he saw he doing that. She handed him the piece of notebook paper that I gave Alice on Thursday.

Alice started to giggle wildly, "So, Bella…meet my brother, Edward."

I groaned inwardly, or at least I hoped so. Of course his name would be something as classic and amazing as Edward. And so literary—like Edward Ferrars…and Edmund Bertram. Okay, not quite. But close enough. Alcohol clouds the mind.

Edward and I made eye-contract through the rear-view mirror, I muttered something like, "Thanks for the ride" before playing with random objects that used to be in Alice's purse.

"Did you have a good birthday Bella?" asked Alice.

I nodded, still leaning against the window. Edward's eyes darted towards me, "Are you going to be okay, Bella? Do I need to lower the window?"

Of course, he thought I was about to vomit in his car. This will bear well on Tuesday. I shook my head, "Nope, just tired, Doctor…I mean Edward." It felt so foreign calling him Edward. Forbidden almost.

Alice continued the conversation, "I love your shoes. I saw the Stuart Weitzman box in your room—are those the ones from Rosalie?"

I looked at my shoes, the four-inch heels that were the reason my feet were throbbing at the moment. Nodding, I removed the shoes and wiggled my toes. I moved so my legs stretched across the back seat, my calves across Alice's lap.

Alice was still giggling, "Was the La Perla box yours or Rosalie's?"

Oh. She was evil. Pure evil. I glanced at Edward, his eyes fixated on the road and his fingers were starting to tighten around the steering wheel—almost how a python tightens around their next meal. I looked back at Alice and said, "Mine," before succumbing to a loud tirade of giggles that mixed with Alice's and filled the car.

The car accelerated, I looked back at Edward, whose eyes were still glued to the road, his fingers grasping the wheel even tighter, his jaw clenched. I saw a hand leave the steering wheel as he changed gear as the car increased in speed.

We got to my apartment and I took my shoes in one hand, digging through my purse with the other—searching for my keys. Alice slid her arm across the seat, sweeping the items back into her purse—more than likely leaving a few on the floor of Edward's car.

"Can I stay with you tonight Bella?"

I grinned, "Sure! Sleepover!" We giggled some more.

Edward opened my door and then Alice's, "Are you sure Alice? I can drive you home. I don't mind."

Alice hit Edward with her purse, "You think I want to go home to Mom and Dad's while drunk?" She ran over to me, and took my free hand, "Let's go, Bella."

Edward closed the door and pocketed his car keys, "I mean your apartment. Is this okay with you Bella?"

I nodded and walked a serpentine path towards the stairwell of my apartment. Alice giggled and wrenched her arm free so I wouldn't make her topple over. Edward raced towards me and righted me.

"Do you want to put your shoes on?" he was looking down at me, his arm around my waist and the other holding my hand.

I shook my head, speechless. Instead I handed him my keys and led the way to my door.

Edward inserted my keys as Alice and I locked arms, the door was already unlocked and he opened the door to find all lights on and blaring with our stereo on a loud volume and to top it off: Rosalie dancing to techno in a tank top and the incredibly short shorts that she named her "lounge shorts."

Alice squealed and raced in, joining Rosalie in dancing. I turned to Edward who silently handed my keys back to me.

"Good night…Bella."

He turned and started going down the stairs, "You too" I said softly, watching him descend the stairs. I turned to enter and I saw Alice and Rosalie watching me, with large smirks on their faces.

"Go on…" Rosalie whispered at me, waving her hand at me to go back out.

Hesitantly, I cried out, "Wait!" and I dropped my shoes. Edward pauses at the base of the stairs, and turned his head up towards me. I raced down the stairs as fast as I could, stopping a few steps before him, so I was barely taller than him. "Thanks," I whispered, before placing a quick kiss on his cheek and raced back up the stairs, picking up my shoes in one swoop, and shut the door.

The three of us erupted into giggles the moment after the door was shut. Alice and Rosalie shoved me aside as they fought for peephole rights.

"He's still there!" shrieked Rosalie.

"Oh my…Bella…his face!" cried out Alice, turning to me and hugging me, "he hasn't looked like that since his girlfriend during his undergraduate years!"

Rosalie continued watching the peephole, "He's coming back up the stairs! No…no…he's back down…he's turning around. And no…no…he just went through the gate. And…I think he's gone."

The rest of the night was spent us, dancing to European techno until we all passed out—Rosalie in her bed, Alice on the couch, and me in my bed.

Everything from that night became fuzzy when I woke up Saturday morning.


	7. Time For You And Time For Me

**WOW! You guys assaulted my inbox and I **_**loved**_** it! I am so glad that you all liked the last chapter, I had a lot of fun writing it and was rather sad when it was over.**

**This chapter (for the most part) is by no means as jovial as the previous—please stick with me! Bella is confused, but I think you will like the end!**

**Let me clear up a few questions: **

**Edward does not live with his parents—he is a grown adult with a decent paying job—I'm not going to let him do that! **

**The class: Many of you mentioned how cool the class sounds, I cannot take credit for it. I am currently in a class with the same title, reading the same books with the exception of Fitzgerald—we are reading Caroline Blackwood and Robert Lowell's work instead. I made the switch because I doubt many have heard of Lady Blackwood—check out her books though, she's a great read.**

**Thank you to all of my reviewers and all of the lovely, LOVELY people at The_Gazebo, this wouldn't be read by so many without your help. Mel, Tor, and Alicia--*muah!***

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The next morning I puttered around my apartment, brewing coffee, drinking water, and trying to find something carb-based to assuage my hangover. Alice was still passed out on my couch, feet dangling off one end and her head leaning against the arm on the opposite end. Her mouth was slightly open and if I listened closely enough, I could hear the faint sounds of snoring.

The sound of feet pattering on the floor signaled Rosalie's entrance to the kitchen. She looked bleary-eyed and nodded at me before filling a mug full of coffee for herself. :I hope you had a good birthday because we are not repeating that for your 23rd."

I shook my head and wrapped both of my hands around my mug of coffee, enjoying the warmth.

It was silent in our apartment, I was grateful—especially since I had a wicked headache starting between my brows. From my massive tequila consumption the night prior, without a doubt.

Then my cell phone rang. I ignored it, Rosalie yawned, and Alice kept sleeping with her mouth wide open.

"Dear Lord, that is not flattering," said Rosalie while staring at Alice.

My cell phone rang again. I shuffled into my room and fished it out of the bag, not looking to see who ithe caller was.

"Hello?" I answered.

I don't think anything could have prepared me for the voice on the other end.

"Bella?" rang a man's voice.

Although I had never heard him over the phone before, I knew immediately who it was. My breath caught and my hungover stomach felt like it plummeted to the floor.

"Bella, this is D--," he cleared his throat, "Edward. Alice left her cell phone in my car."

I nodded before realizing that he couldn't see me, "Oh…alright." I briefly pulled the phone away from my ear and sure enough, Alice's name was on my caller ID. "Do you want me to wake her so you can talk?" I looked through the doorway at Rosalie, who had an eyebrow raised—silently asking me who was on the phone. I pointed to Alice, hoping she would understand or figure it out. I think she did since she nodded her head.

"God no, she's a terror if you wake her. When she wakes up please remind her that we are having dinner at our parents' tonight. And if you can, try to make sure she doesn't look too hungover—last dinner she still reeked of alcohol."

I nervously laughed, "Alright, that I can do."

"Thanks, Bella. I hope you had a good birthday."

"I did, thanks." I gulped, "And thank you for the ride home."

"It was my pleasure."

A heavy silence fell, I didn't know if he had hung up or not, but I couldn't make myself hang up on him. "Are you still there?" I asked, almost whispering.

"Yeah…" he breathed.

My eyes darted over to Rosalie, who rolled her eyes. She shook her head in disgust and walked back to her room.

"I uh…"I took a deep breath to keep myself from stammering, "I should go…"

"Alright…see you Tuesday."

"Yeah…bye."

"Bye."

I hung up the phone and stared at it, dumbfounded. I didn't know what to say to Dr. Cullen…er, Edward. After last night, I was more confused than anything. I needed answers.

I filled a mug full of coffee and set it on the coffee table, right in front of Alice's nose, hoping the scent will wake her up.

It did. She stirred and yawned before sitting up, "What time is it?" Alice looked down at the coffee, "Is that for me?" I nodded and sat next to her, sipping out of my own mug.

"Alice, I need some answers."

She took a long sip of coffee and nodded, "Alright. Shoot."

"Dr. Cullen is your brother."

Alice laughed, "_Edward_ is my brother. And that was a statement, not a question."

I sighed and placed a throw cushion in my lap, my fingers running over the soft, chenille surface, "Why didn't you tell me?"

She shrugged, "We wanted to keep it quiet…I had to get my registration for the class approved by the dean of the department."

"Why are you taking the class?"

"I'm taking it pass/fail. I forgot what reason I told the dean…but see…Bella, my family—we're strange. We're all oddly literary, but most of us love very different genres. My mom is into the classics—Bronte, Austen, and Dickens. My dad loves the really old stuff—mythology and Chaucer especially. Edward…well, you know where his interests lie. And for me, I am the weird one of the bunch—I love the really abstract literature out there.

"Edward and I had a bet at the beginning of the summer. He suggested for me to read Eliot—saying it was right up my alley and that I would probably like Plath as well. I rebuffed him and soon we bet each other…well, shoes for me and some first edition for him, that I would take his class and if I didn't enjoy Eliot or Plath by the end of it, I would win."

I rolled my eyes, "Really?"

Alice giggled, "We're a strange bunch, but I love my family—I think you would love my parents once you met them."

I cleared my throat, "That reminds me, Edward called. You left your phone in his car, he said he'd give it to you tonight at your parents. And he asked for you not to look that hungover."

She rolled her eyes and snickered, "He obviously has not forgotten two weeks ago." Alice drained her coffee and smiled, "I better be going…see you in class, Bella!" Kissing both of my cheeks, she picked up her purse, "I hope you had a great birthday and thanks for letting me crash on your couch!"

With that, she was gone. I laid down on the couch and stared blankly at the ceiling. I didn't know what to do or think. Dr. Cullen…Edward...whomever, was my professor. That is a fairly steely line to cross, repercussions would be massive. What exactly was going on and how exactly did I feel about it?

I looked over in the direction that I knew my cell phone would be in, all I would have to do is call Alice. I knew he would pick up. But what would I say? Do I even dare to call him? Do I even dare to…do anything? Confusion clouded my mind and wracked my body.

Grabbing the soft blanket we have draped on one side of the couch, I pulled it to my chin and decided to do nothing as I fell back asleep. Nothing would suit me just fine. It always has. Why change after 22 years?

Saturday passed. And Sunday passed. Same with Monday. Every day I forced myself not to think about him, not to dwell. To forget that any coffee meetings happened. To forget that Starbucks happened. Hell, to even forget that Friday night happened. I would simply be his student and he would be my professor.

I walked into class Tuesday afternoon, absolutely determined that I would feel nothing and say nothing in regards to Dr. Cullen. I felt slightly confident, I wore the outfit my mother sent me as a birthday present—it was cute, but not like Renee at all, I was fairly certain that she let a saleslady choose it. Trying to make the most of my outfit—I even wore some of the pieces from La Perla that Rosalie gave me. Anything to help my self-confidence today.

Alice's eyes lit up at the site of new clothes, "I love this jacket!" She tugged at the navy three-quarter length sleeves, "And the buttons are so cute!"

I mumbled a "thanks," and made minimal small talk with her. Then I realized it, usually in class I felt anticipation, excitement for Dr. Cullen to arrive and start class. Today was different. Today I was fearful.

Why was I so scared? _Because he saw you three sheets to the wind and you kissed his cheek. Plus Alice made a comment about you wearing La Perla in front of him._

_But he liked it._

I tried to shove any thoughts aside, he didn't like picking me up at 2am when Alice and I were wasted. He didn't like the thought of me in La Perla. And I am sure as hell he didn't like me kissing his cheek outside of my apartment.

I kept repeating those thoughts to myself—trying to make that small, yet loud optimistic side of me to believe it. And I was close—so close.

Then he walked in. With a big, goofy grin on his face. And he fucking winked at me. And I swear, my heart melted. I gnawed on my pen for the next hour, as we finished reading _The Waste Land._

Packing my bag to leave, Edward approached me, "Coffee?" he asked.

I snapped my head up and looked around the room, no one else was around us, I didn't realize how long I took to pack up. "Sure," I nodded and followed him out of the room and to our typical coffee kiosk.

It was unseasonable warm, it made drinking coffee outside almost strange. We sat on a bench, chatting about our various takes on Eliot and his poetry. It was almost as if Friday never happened.

"You know," I cleared my throat and took a sip of coffee, "I don't think I have heard a full recording of Eliot reciting _The Waste Land."_

"Really?" Edward half-smiled, "Let's fix that." He stood up, "C'mon."

I nervously laughed, "Where are we going?"

"To my office," he jerked his head back towards the building, "C'mon."

I followed him back inside the building, watching him nod his head to the occasional professor that walked by, on their way home for the day. Finally we got outside his office door, he unlocked it and turned on the lights.

I didn't know what to expect. But his office was dimly lit until he turned on a floor lamp, and a desk covered in paper and books faced the door. Another desk sat perpendicular and on top of that was a computer. On the walls hung his framed degrees and the wall by his desk was covered in yellow post-it notes. I turned around and saw that against the wall, next to the door was a brown leather couch, like one that you would find at IKEA.

Edward tossed his keys on his desk and sat down, sifting through a stack of CDs. He looked at me over this CDs, "Take a seat, Bella," gesturing towards the couch. I sat down and watched him choose a CD and place it in a CD player that rested on a bookshelf to my right. Edward pushed the "play" button.

"What parts have you heard?"

I fidgeted with the straps of my backpack, "I have heard through 'A Game of Chess.'"

Edward nodded and pushed a button several times before sitting back in his chair, leaning back with his feet propped up on his desk. We both listened to T.S. Eliot's voice in silence, occasionally glancing at each other with a small smile on the other's face.

It ended and Edward stood up to turn off the CD player, I stood up—ready to put my backpack on and leave. He turned to me, "I hope you liked it."

I nodded, "I did…I really did. Thanks Dr. Cullen."

"Edward."

I gulped. "Um…are you sure?"

He took a step towards me and nodded, "Obviously not in the classroom, but yes. I am sure." I think he took another step.

"Alright, thanks Edwa—"

I swear I knew what was coming. I swear I saw it coming. But I still was shocked when he cut me off, kissing me. I kissed him back—I couldn't help it. It was instinct. And the best part was that he didn't stop.

I let go of my backpack, it fell to the floor with a loud thud. My arms had a mind of their own as they wrapped around his shoulders. He was an amazing kisser, after kissing him for a minute I already knew this would be one of the better kisses in my life if not the best. I usually hated when guys tasted like something—tequila, cigarettes, candy…but Edward tasted like the coffee he finished twenty minutes prior and I loved it.

I don't know how long we stood there, holding each other and kissing each other—alternating between slow, laborious kisses and deep, almost desperate kisses. It wasn't until after he pulled away, his hand cupping the left side of my face before I could process what I was feeling. My entire body was warm and I could hear the blood rushing in my ears.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, his thumb tracing my bottom lip.

"Don't be," I replied before rising my toes, kissing him again. This time we weren't alternating between long, sweet kisses and the almost-violent passionate ones. These kisses were deep, desperate, and felt sinful. My fingers wove through his hair, pulling him closer to me as his hands migrated up and down my torso. Somehow I stumbled backwards and we ended up on the couch; after some rearranging he was sitting on it with me straddling his legs.

The rush of blood flowing in my ears was growing louder and I started to feel like my entire body was somehow charged by static electricity. His hands slid over my shoulders, easing my jacket off of my arms and onto the floor. One hand traveled up and down my thigh while the other brushed against my now bare arm.

My nerves were hyper-aware by then, I could hear myself panting, Edward panting and every creak made by the leather couch. Then I heard footsteps from down the hall. Edward must have heard it too. We paused, our chests heaving—almost in time together. He leaned over and with a quick flick of the deadbolt, he locked the door. But we were still trying to still our breaths, keep ourselves from being heard by the interloper.

He pressed his forehead against mine and we stared into each other's eyes as we both anxiously waited for the footsteps to fade. Our panting was subsiding, the hum within my body was diming. His hand snaked to my neck, "Bella," he breathed, "You should go."

I blinked. I didn't move. What was going on?

He continued, "I swear to God if you stay I will keep kissing you and that might not be a good idea right now."

Silently I nodded and climbed off of his lap, picking my now-dusty jacket—swatting some dust off before putting it back on.

Edward stood up and I felt his hand on the side on my face again, we stared at each other again. His thumb recreated its path on my bottom lip, "I've thought about kissing you for so long…" His thumb paused and he kissed me once more—this time the kiss was brief, but just as fulfilling as the heated kisses on the couch.

"I need to go," I whispered, "I'll uh…see you later."


	8. Decisions and Revisions

**WOO! I now have a beta, the fabulous xmryin! This means that my grammar will be so much better—catching the mistakes I make at 2am. However this does mean there will be a delay in posting. But I think it trades out evenly, yes?**

**Thank you everyone for the reviews—you all are amazing. And THANK YOU to the amazing ladies at The_Gazebo for all of your support. **

**I do not own Twilight or other forms of literature, only copies.**

**-----------------------------------------------------**

I slung my backpack over a shoulder and walked furiously down the hall. My mind was spinning at a million miles per hour and I didn't know what to concentrate on. I saw the door to the ladies' room on my left and I entered.

My eyes passed over the taupe tiles that lined the walls and I looked at my reflection in the mirror. My hair was a mess, I must not have realized or noticed that his hands had been running through it. I set my backpack on the counter and unzipped it—looking for the brush and hair ties that I usually kept in my bag but always had a tendency of sinking to the bottom.

As I pulled my brush out of the bag, it fell from my hands—making a clattering sound as it fell in the porcelain sink. That was when I looked at my hands, they were shaking. I took a deep breath, exhaling loudly, before grabbing the brush and vigorously brushing my hair, pulling it into a ponytail.

There. I looked a bit better, but my lips were still bright pink and barely swollen, I doubt a stranger would have noticed. But I noticed and I am sure he would too. I dug out a tube of Chap-Stick from my backpack and applied a thick coat with a shaking hand, I almost dropped the tube several times.

After the third fumble of the Chap-Stick, I threw it in my bag and turned the faucet on. Cold.

"Fuck," I muttered, "Fuck fuck fuck." I took three pumps of soap from the dispenser and started scrubbing my hands.

Piece by piece, things started falling into my consciousness. Friday night. This afternoon. When it was just class and meetings at the coffee kiosk, everything seemed professional and pure between Edward—Dr. Cullen, and I. When everything could have been passed off as coincidence I was fine, I didn't have to process feelings and I didn't have to consider consequences or intent.

But now everything was different. _He made you one of those women, the ones that sleep…or do whatever with their professors in order to get the grades they want._

And then damnit, my mind betrayed me.  
_  
But you reciprocated, Bella. You kissed him back. And what about your birthday? How do you really feel about him?_

"Arg….fuck," I muttered, trying to focus on creating suds. I willed my brain to shut up.

Once I started scrubbing I couldn't stop, it was as if by scrubbing my hands raw I was purging myself of the emotions that were setting in. Soon my hands were bright pink. I turned the faucet off and buried my face in my cold hands, trying to compose myself for the walk home. Before drying off my hands and face, I held my hands at the base of my neck—cooling myself off.

Using a few paper towels to dry off my hands and pat down my face, I finally looked at myself in the mirror again. I looked a bit better, still flushed though.

I took a deep breath and exhaled loudly, "Okay," I whispered to myself. "Okay." With that I zipped my backpack shut, hoisted it onto my shoulders and opened the bathroom door.

Sticking my head down the hall, I glanced up and down—for some reason I felt it was necessary to make sure "the coast was clear." It was and I slid into the hall, but then that's when he appeared from his office, locking his door.

I froze, staring at him. After what seemed like eons, he looked down the hall and we locked eyes. My heart skipped a beat and my breath caught in my throat. I swear my feet were paralyzed and rooted to the floor. I don't know how long we stood there, staring at each other down the hall. My brain was screaming at me, trying to remember how to make my feet move again.

He turned towards me, his mouth opening as if he was about to say something. That was when the synapses in my brain fired correctly; I spun on my heel and walked as quickly as I could to the exit.

"Bella," I heard him call out, the sounds of his footsteps echoing mine.

I clenched my jaw, determined not to answer him, not to turn around.

"Bella," he said again, this time I knew he was closer to me but I still ignored him. I kept walking, so close to the door—my escape. "Bella," he repeated, but this time I felt his hand on my arm.

"What?" I spat, turning to face him.

His eyebrows were raised and he blinked a few times, "What's wrong?"

"You."

He dropped the hand that was still on my arm, "Me?"

"Yes. You." I said tersely through gritted teeth.

"I…" he took a deep breath, "I don't think I understand, Bella."

I glanced around us, still in the hallway. "This isn't the time. Nor the place."

His hand returned to my arm, staying me as I tried to leave. "Bella."

"No, Dr. Cullen. No." I took a deep breath and tried to keep my volume to a loud whisper. "I'm not one of those girls. The ones that fool around with their professors to get the grades they want. I'm not one of them.

"I'm Bella. I'm from a small town in Washington, where the only reason I stood out was because I the new kid my junior year. I'm plain, nothing extraordinary about me.

"I'm just simple, boring Bella." I took a deep breath and tried to blink away the tears that were collecting in my eyes. "There is nothing special about me. And how dare you try to make me something that I am not. So no, Dr. Cullen, my answer is no."

I tore away from him and shoved the door open—grateful for my release. My escape.

When I got home I slammed the door shut and leaned against it. Rosalie stormed out of the kitchen. "The fuck?!" Her eyes narrowed and she examined my face. "Why are you crying?"

"He kissed me."

"The hot prof? Thank goodness." I glared at Rosalie, who threw her hands in the air. "What?!?"

"Rosalie, he's my professor."

She crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Continue."

"I'm not pursuing it."

Rosalie shrugged. "Sounds like you have made your decision, then." She walked back into the kitchen and I tried to distract myself for the rest of the night, determined to keep him out of my mind.

I was successful—I distracted myself with homework, readings, and papers. However, when I fell asleep my dreams were only about him, replaying moments from his office. I tried to wake up, but my body kept me trapped in slumber—torturing me with replays from the day, some in slow motion as well.

Groaning in frustration, I threw my blankets off of me and glanced at my alarm clock. 5:30am. My alarm would go off in an hour and a half. Sleep wasn't appealing; I did not want to risk any more dreams where he and his overly talented lips and tongue could make an appearance.

I made myself a mug of tea and decided to take out some of my frustration through a run by the Connecticut River. It worked—I was able to go through my classes for the day without thinking about him. Nighttime was different—I struggled with making process through my senior thesis because my mind would wander.

Then I tried to write some poetry to get my emotions out of my system. But all I got was a pile of crumpled paper at my feet after and hour and a half.

By nine p.m., Rosalie said I should eat something. In response I took her pint of Ben and Jerry's Chunky Monkey out of the freezer and ate it while watching _Top Chef_. I don't think she was very happy about it, she scoffed and called Emmett. He came over an hour later, gave me a nod as a greeting and spent the rest of the night in Rosalie's room.

The sugar from the ice cream kept me awake and I didn't want to hear disturbing sounds from Rosalie's room all night long, so I stole one of Rosalie's Lunestas and fell into a blissfully dreamless slumber.

Thursday was not as easy, I spent the day anxious—in fear of my last class. My stomach was jittery and my mind unable to focus. At 3:10 I was walking to the building in fear, wringing my hands and dragging my feet. As I approached the building a brief moment of inspiration came—easy solution. Drop the class. Never see him again.

Simple. Easy. Clean. My style of a pseudo-break up.

I ran home, into my room and opened my laptop that was on my desk. I logged into my school's server and accessed the page for me to drop classes. Reading the directions, I saw that I had until midnight to drop the class without any record on my transcript—I was cutting the deadline scarily close.

_Are you sure about this, Bella?  
_  
I told myself to shut up, and dragged my finger on the trackpad, ready to drop the class and be done with my predicament.

_What about Alice? Would you still be friends if you dropped? Do you really not want to talk to him again?_

"Fuck," I murmured. I stood up and walked away from my desk, to my bookshelf. Reading some chapters from a favorite book always helped clear my mind. I reached out to a book that I adored and always made me feel good, _Something Borrowed_, but then my fingers brushed against the book next to it, the copy of _The Bell Jar_ that Alice gave me for my birthday. The copy that she bought with her brother.

I dropped my hand and my heartbeat sped up. Her brother. He was her brother. He chose this. I wanted to throw the book somewhere, stash it under my bed or in a drawer, but I couldn't make myself mistreat a first edition that way. So it stayed on my bookshelf, taunting me from across the room.

Looking at the clock, I saw that class was almost ending. I took a deep breath, centering myself. Dropping couldn't be that hard. And I was sure that if I explained everything to Alice she would understand.

I walked back to my computer, took a deep breath, and clicked the button. It led me to a secondary screen, asking me to confirm my decision. I exhaled loudly and stormed into the kitchen in frustration, pulling a bag of Milano cookies out of the pantry. Crossing my legs, I sat down on the couch and watched _Oprah_—the stories and gimmicks on her show would be a welcome distraction. But five minutes later the show wrapped and I was without distraction.

Pouting, I slumped back into my room and flopped on the bed. Rosalie came out of her room and stood in the doorway of my room. "Bella, you have to make a damn decision. You have been pouting since Tuesday, you've only eaten my pint of Ben and Jerry's and a bag of black and white Milanos."

I stared up at the ceiling. "I'm trying to drop the class."

"Then do it." She crossed her arms.

"It takes so much emotional effort to push that damned button. I am trying to drop the class, but something tells me that I shouldn't."

"Do you want me to do it for you?"

I shook my head. "No."

Rosalie shook her head and walked away, muttering something inaudible.

I don't know how long I stared at the ceiling, but it must have been for a while. The doorbell chimed and I called out for Rosalie to get it. In response I heard her turn on her shower.

It chimed again.

I slid off of my bed and walked to the front door, opening it.

I was not expecting him standing there. My arm flinched, tempted to slam it shut, but something in me told me not to.

"Bella," he said. "You can shut the door, but I would like for you to hear me out."

I stepped back and crossed my arms, waiting for him to continue.

He took a deep breath. "Tuesday was not about me taking advantage of you; I am not going to proposition you about your grades or anything. I am genuinely attracted to you Bella, and it isn't something that is purely physical." Leaning against the doorjamb he continued. "I've heard about you since I've started teaching here—hell, even as a T.A. when I was a Ph.D student, I heard about you. You came into my class and yes, I was instantly physically attracted."

I bit my lips, trying not to show any reaction to what he was saying.

"But then we talked and…God Bella, I don't think you understand how interesting or intelligent you are." He unrolled some papers that were in his hand. "Someone ordinary does not write like you. Someone extraordinary writes poems like these.

"I'm not going to pursue you. This can be your decision, but remember—my intentions are pure." He grinned slightly. "Mostly pure would be a better description."

I nodded slowly. "I'll think about it."

He nodded and fished a cream envelope out of his back jean pocket. "Alice wanted to give this to you in class today. My parents are hosting a party on Saturday to celebrate my father's 25th anniversary at the med school. I think my mom wants to meet you…as Alice's friend." He grinned crookedly. "You don't have to come, I think Alice would understand. But I would like to see you there."

He turned to me and smiled before descending the stairs. "See you later, Bella."

I nodded and closed the door, turning to face Rosalie.

"Isabella Swan, if you do not go to that party I will skin you alive."


	9. Lead You To An Overwhelming Question

**Thank you again for all of the reviews!**

**Thanks to my lovely beta xmyrin, the FABULOUS and supportive ladies at The_Gazebo, and to Mel, Tor, and Alicia. 333**

**I do not own Twilight or any other published literary works. Or Keggy (google image it). I own: lots of Prismacolor markers, a down pillow, and an espresso machine.**

**Many of you have commented on the length of my chapters—I know that we all would love a lot more Professor!Edward in our lives, but I don't want to waste your time with writing that is unneeded. However, if it really is an issue for you—I suggest reading this fic in ½ page format.**

**---------------------------------**

Friday evening Hurricane Taffeta hit. Then it morphed into Hurricane Satin. Finally it evolved to Hurricane Silk.

I was ankle deep in black dresses in a large dressing room in Nordstrom. Less than five minutes after Edward left the night before, Rosalie threw open my closet. Three minutes later she scoffed, stating that there was nothing that would do a cocktail party of this magnitude.

Then she ventured into her closet and presented several options, none of which I was able to fill out. Rosalie mentioned something about filling out the dress with something horrific termed "chicken fillets." I balked at that plan then and there. Sighing, she called Alice and planned a road trip to the closest Nordstrom—somewhere in Massachusetts.

Friday afternoon, Alice came to our apartment straight from class and I was shoved into the backseat of the car—promised by my two captors to be well fed and taken care of. I didn't bother telling them food was the least of my worries and instead watched the fall New England scenery pass by as the girls chatted about various topics. Apparently the invite Edward gave me included Rosalie and Emmett—which spurred Rosalie's call to Emmett, threatening him with a sexless week if he didn't get his suit steamed before Saturday.

Which is why and how I was in a wheelchair access dressing room with Rosalie as she helped me try on dress after dress that Alice brought forth. I tried to be a good sport as long as possible, ignoring price tags and clothing labels, and calculating how much credit I had left on my card. This wasn't just an event for me—I felt like I had to perform on the behalf of Rosalie and Alice as well.

Finally, when I saw a St. John tag float over my head I put my foot down.

"No," I said before Rosalie could finish zipping up the dress.

"What?" She zipped it closed and did the clasp at the top. "You look _amazing_."

_Oh hell yes you do._ I gazed at myself in the mirror, the black knee-length dress was beautiful—probably the most beautiful thing I had ever put on. But I closed my eyes and shook my head. "No, Rosalie," I took a deep breath. "I can't afford it."

I heard Alice giggle on the other side of the door. "Bella, do you honestly think we are going to make you pay for this?"

I shook my head vigorously. "No. I am not going to make either of you pay for a St. John dress. How much does this thing cost anyways?"

Rosalie opened the dressing room door so Alice could see me in the dress, as she cooed and ooh-ed I saw Rosalie slip the price tag into the dress so I wouldn't be able to read the tag.

I still was shaking my head. "No. I cannot let you guys do this."

Alice nodded and pursed her lips. "Okay…let's try on some more dresses. But if we can't find one that looks just as good as this one, will you let up?"

I shrugged. "Maybe." Maybe was always used by my parents when they knew I really wanted something that they had no intention of giving to me, after ten-some years I figured out the power of the word and I would use it now. Apparently it was good enough for Alice since she smiled and hung five new dresses on one of the bars in the room.

"Let's see you try these on!"

Black turned to brown and brown tuned to navy. Finally a navy dress received passing marks from Rosalie and Alice. Plus it was in my price range. I loved it—while it might not have been as beautiful as the St. John dress, I loved it and thought it fit my personality very well. It was a navy knee-length dress with a wide square neckline and small cap sleeves.

I fought tooth and nail for them to agree on settling on that dress, I caught Alice glancing at the other dress during the argument. I think I won because I bargained that I would buy the dress and if they let me choose the dress, they could choose everything else—shoes, accessories, et cetera.

After dinner at the Nordstrom Café, I was dragged to numerous departments and weighed down with multiple bags. By the time I crawled into Rosalie's backseat I was grateful for escape and I nodded off for the entire trip.

I woke up Saturday morning to Rosalie standing in front of my bed, a curling iron in one hand and a small jar in the other.

"What the…" I mumbled. I was able to focus on the jar in Rosalie's hand. "Is that Nads?" My eyes widened, "What do you plan on waxing? My eyebrows are fine."

Rosalie raised an eyebrow. I gulped. "No, Rosalie. No. You are not waxing me…"

She sighed."Do you want him or not?"

"Irrelevant. You are not going down there," I pointed. "And I am perfectly able to groom myself. You and Alice got me the outfit, I will do the rest."

Rosalie slowly nodded. "Fine. But keep in mind it would be a nice treat…"

I threw a pillow at her head. "Out."

I prepared for the party my way—relaxing the entire day and doing everything myself. Rosalie tried to occasionally give me advice about how my make-up should look or how I should style my hair. Each time I threatened her with violence towards her La Perla collection.

Finally, it was time for the party. Emmett drove Rosalie and me to Hanover Inn, where the party was being held. I held my head up and tried to come across as confident as possible as we walked in. Before I could take everything in Alice flew towards us, taking my arm.

"Thanks for coming guys! Bella, come meet my parents."

I nodded and wondered how quickly I could grab a flute of champagne from a waiter and down it before we get to her parents. Too late.

"Mom, Dad…this is Bella," she led me in front of a couple—the man was tall with dirty blonde hair, looking extremely distinguished, and a petite brunette whose smile was as wide as Alice's.

"Bella," her mother said. "Pleasure to meet you. I am glad you were able to make our party."

At that moment I saw Edward across the room, wearing a black suit with a white button-down with the first few buttons open. His hands were shoved into his pockets and he was laughing with the person he was talking with. I tried my best to swallow my nerves and turned towards Mrs. Cullen. "Thank you for inviting me Mrs. Cullen."

She smiled. "Please, call me Esme. I hope you enjoy yourself tonight."

I nodded and thanked her before walking to the first waiter that had a tray of drinks, taking a flute off of the tray. It wasn't straight champagne, it was a Bellini. Thank goodness. It went down quickly and easily, Alice was giggling at the speed of my consumption.

"Nervous?" she asked. I nodded in reply as I saw Edward approaching.

"Bella, glad you could make it." He was giving me that damn crooked smile.

I gulped down the rest of my Bellini. Nodding, I smiled. "Thanks," I looked to the side. "Where did Alice go?"

He smirked. "Jasper is at the bar."

I spun around and saw Alice walking towards the bar, where sure enough Jasper was located. "Oh," I murmured, turning to face Edward and grabbing another drink from a traveling waiter.

"Bella," he chuckled. "Are you nervous?"

I took a sip. "Are you pursuing me?"

Edward grinned. "No. I am greeting you at my parent's party." He grabbed a flute for himself and took a sip. "Are you pursing me?"

I grinned. "No. I am greeting you."

He chuckled. "I figured as much." Edward took a sip and I watched his Adam's apple bob, he looked at me and smiled. "I forgot to ask, how did you like your birthday present?"

My heartbeat increased. "Birthday present?"

Edward nodded. "I suggested for Alice to get it for you."

My suspicions were right. I tried to smile and I felt my knees weaken. At that moment, an associate dean of the English department walked up to the two of us. "Miss Swan! So pleased to see you here, how are you?"

I turned to Dr. Stone. "Very well, thank you. And yourself?"

"Splendid," his eyes narrowed. "Are you feeling alright, you look a bit faint…"

My eyes shifted between Dr. Stone and Edward. "Ummm, it's just my uh….shoes."

Dr. Stone nodded, looking concerned while Edward spoke up, "Maybe you should get some air Miss Swan, please let me accompany you." He offered his arm with his eyebrows raised. I nervously took his arm and Dr. Stone continued to nod. "Yes, yes…some air might help."

Edward led me to the balcony that was lighted with white Christmas lights and had several potted trees dispersed. I let go of his hand and walked to the railing. "You…you told Alice to get me the present?"

I heard him walk closer to me. "Yes…I took her into the store looking for something for myself and then I saw _The Bell Jar_ and it was a first edition. I knew you were supposed to have it."

Finishing my drink, I turned to face him. "When I told my dad that I wanted to study poetry, he sent me _Where the Sidewalk Ends_. I have known you for only a few weeks and you get me a first edition of _The Bell Jar._" He nodded and I continued, "We've only known each other for a few weeks and I feel like you know me so well, but I know nothing about you.

I swear he got even closer to me. "What do you want to know?"

Looking beyond his shoulder, I gestured my head inside. "Tell me about your parents."

"My mom used to teach English at Dartmouth, she met my father and while planning the wedding she fell in love with event planning. My dad teaches genetics at the med school and is an associate dean."

"Who all is in there?"

Once again I swore her got closer, I could feel the warmth of his body and I could feel his breath whenever he exhaled. I thanked the heavens for us being semi-concealed by the potted trees. "Mostly doctors from the med school with a smattering of med students and residents. The only people from the English department are Jasper and Dr. Stone, the former I am assuming will be going home relatively soon."

I took a deep breath. "If I pursue you, will we have to keep this from your parents?"

"I don't know," he breathed. "Will we have to keep it from yours?"

"I--" I briefly laughed. "I think we could tell my mom."

He smirked. "Bella."

I took a deep breath, "Yes?"

"Are you p—"

"Bella!" Rosalie interrupted. "Emmett and I are going home, will you be able to find a ride home?"

Edward and I both turned to face her, my jaw was slack, but Edward spoke up. "I'll make sure she gets home alright."

She smiled, nodded, and winked at me before darting out of sight. Edward looked back down at me. "Bella," he said—almost a whisper this time. "Are you pursuing me?"

I gulped. Audibly. "Yes."

Edward grinned and I felt his fingers brush against my arm, goosebumps rising in the cool, late-fall breeze. "Is this an effect of the alcohol?"

"No," I muttered. "Not really. If anything it's helped."

"I'll have to thank Mom for serving the Bellinis then," he murmured.

We stood there for some time, I don't know how long—just standing next to each other, his fingers brushing up and down my forearms as my hands rested against his chest. I concentrated on listening to his breathing, blocking out the noises from the party and the wind. It felt nice, it felt complete and I felt content.

Finally, I felt his hand brush under my chin and lift it towards his face. His lips brushed against mine and I felt my entire body warm up. He deepened the kiss and I used all of my will power not to run my hands through his hair and pull him closer. I forgot how good he was at kissing and right when I thought that my self-control would snap in two, he pulled away.

"I should get you home," he hand cupped my face. "This isn't the best place for us right now."

I nodded and followed him back into the party, in a daze. Edward walked up to Alice and said something to her, I assumed he told her that he was going to take me home.

The ride home was silent, we held hands whenever he wasn't shifting the car into gears, and exchanged smiling glances at each other. When we got to my complex he opened my door and took my key.

We stopped in front of my door and his lips brushed against mine. "See you later…Bella."

God, I loved it when he said my name.

He unlocked and opened the door; we saw Emmett dressed as Keggy, leaping foot-to-foot. "Look, Rosie! Better than ever! Ta da!"

Rosalie had her arms crossed and rolled her eyes, "Stop prancing, we have downstairs neighbors." She glanced over at us. "He told me that he had something special to show me," Rosalie's glare shot daggers at Emmett. "I didn't think it would be his stupid keg costume."

Emmett gasped. "How _dare_ you insult Keggy!"

"For fuck's sake, Emmett! Go show your frat brothers; I thought you were making a sick joke about your penis. I thought you wanted sex!"

I heard Edward chuckling behind me and felt his breath against my ear. "Want to get out of here?" he whispered. I nodded and he kissed the spot below my ear and his fingers intertwined with mine.

We both nodded "good bye" to Rosalie and as the door was closing Emmett quipped that they could try to have sex with him in the Keggy costume and I am fairly certain that something went flying across the room.


	10. Muttering Retreats of Restless Nights

**So sorry for the long delay! Good news! I am officially DONE with my undergraduate career—I graduate officially in 1.5 weeks.**

**Thanks to every single reviewer—you keep me reading. Also, many, **_**many **_**thanks to: my fab beta xmyrin, the ladies at The_Gazebo, and to everyone who supports me during the writing of these chapters.**

**I do not own Twilight or any other published work. I own: a white leather Coach purse, several stacks of **_**Vanity Fair**_** magazines, and a ticket stub from seeing **_**Star Trek**_** (FYI: I am head-over-heels in love with Chris Pine right now)**_**.**_

**---------------------------**

For the entire car ride I was wringing my hands—where was he taking me? His place? Oh no—was he wanting sex? I was by no means ready for that. Not that I wasn't experienced in that department, I just accepted my feeling and intentions for Edward, I don't think jumping the gun so quickly would be the smartest choice.

Slowly the number of streetlights started to become fewer and fewer. _Where the hell are we going?_ Did he live this far out? Or maybe instead of the professor that made my stomach house thousands of butterflies whenever he was nearby, he was some kind of crazy stalker that would take me to the middle of no where, rape me, and them chop me up into a lot of small pieces—burying me in some massive hole.

_Maybe you should stop reading __The Lovely Bones__, Bella._

The car slowed to a stop. We were in a dark, heavily forested area. I saw a single streetlight about 50 feet away, its large globe bulb eerily floating in the air. Edward started shrugging and he handed me his blazer, "Don't want you to be cold." I unbuckled my seat belt and shrugged his blazer on—the shoulders falling a few inches down my arms and the sleeve hems almost covering my hands.

He opened my door and offered me his hand. I took it and stood up. "Thanks. Where are we?"

Edward smiled. "Connecticut River."

I rolled my eyes. "I know that, I can hear it. But _where_ are we?"

He started to lead the way, but I could see grassy and mud—even in the limited light. I didn't take a step, making him tug me a few inches. "What?" He asked.

"Alice would kill me if anything happened to these shoes."

Edward flashed his crooked grin and nodded, sweeping me into his arms—carrying me as if he was carrying me across the threshold. I giggled and wrapped my arms around his shoulders, inhaling his scent. "I come here to think." He said, whispering in my ear.

He set me down on a large cement palate, the edge hanging over a 10-foot drop into mud and tree roots—the river shore about 20 feet away. Edward stepped to the edge and sat down, his legs hanging. I stepped next to him, trying to figure out whether to potentially get my dress dirty or his blazer. His blazer would just be rude, but Alice and Rosalie would get livid if they saw a speck of mud on the dress. _But they don't have to know, Bella…._

Edward looked back at me and smiled, "Sit down Bella, I don't care too much for that blazer anyways." I nodded and sat down next to him, my arm brushing against his. His hand found mine and intertwined our fingers.

I took in the scenery a bit more before speaking. "Do you need to think now?"

"No…I just, wanted to show you this place." He turned to face me. "Thought you might like it."

The autumn wind started to pick up, blowing locks of fair in my face. Edward helped me brush them away and gave me a soft kiss on the lips.

"Do you think…that we should have some ground rules?" I asked.

"Hmm…what do you mean by ground rules?"

"Ground rules. Like. Umm…" I turned my head to face him. "This isn't exactly orthodox—you and I. And I figure that we need to have precautions to make sure neither one of us go down burning."

Edward half-grinned. "Go down burning…" His hand snaked around my wais., "Okay…so. Ground rules." I nodded and he kissed the spot below my earlobe. "No skirts above the knee when you come to my class."

I snorted. "It's about to be winter Edward, I doubt I'd be wearing a skirt anytime soon." I cleared my throat. "And by 'ground rules' I meant things like no physical contact in your office or…" My breath caught, his fingers started tracing random designs on my back, his thumb drawing circles over my spine. I gulped. "or…something of the sort."

His free hand drifted over to my thigh and he pulled me into his lap, my dress slightly riding up my legs that were on either sides of his. "So far we have no physical contact in my office," he kissed me below my jaw, "no skirts in my class," his lips traveled lower to the juncture of my neck and shoulders—placing a kiss there. "Anything else?"

I felt his breath on my shoulders, his proximity overwhelming me. "Maybe…" I gulped. "No in-town…rendezvous'."

Edward chuckled softly, placing brief kisses down my shoulders, moving the blazer out of his way. "I like that…" One of his hands slid up my arm and into my hair. "We can do out of town _dates._" He tilted his head back to look at me and kissed my nose. "We can go to Boston for a weekend," he kissed the apple of my cheek. "New York for another." He kissed the corner of my mouth. "Maybe a long weekend in Toronto."

His lips brushed against mine and my eyelids fluttered. I felt his other hand brush against my forearms, gently moving up and down. Taking a deep breath I asked, "How old are you?"

Edward kissed me again, his lips tugging on my bottom lip. I felt him smile. "Almost 29…" His hands moved to my hips, "Any more questions?"

"What's the youngest you've dated?"

He pulled away, his brows furrowed. "Bella, what's wrong?"

"What's the youngest you've dated?"

He grinned. "That would be 13, when I had my first girlfriend. However I think you mean the largest age difference. That would be two years younger than me."

Something dropped inside, disappointment? How would I measure up? We were six…almost seven years apart. Would he mind? I bit my bottom lip, trying to figure out what to say next.

Edward swept a lock of hair out of my face and readjusted the blazer to cover me fully. "Bella…" his eyes softened. "What's wrong?"

"I'm almost seven years younger than you."

"And?"

I shook my head, "It doesn't bother you?"

He grinned. "Why would it bother me? You are smart, independent, and attractive. Age doesn't play in." His hand ran up and down my back. "You are an undergrad, I had an idea about your age when this started. If it bothered me I wouldn't be here with you." He took a deep breath. "Is this a problem for you?

I blinked. "I—I don't know." I looked into the dark distance behind Edward. "I guess if it isn't a problem for you…"

"We can take this as slow as you want." He grinned. "Anything else you want to know about me?"

I looked him in the eye and sat back slightly. "I…I haven't done anything like this. Ever. This is me on a leap of faith. I'm here because I am very, _very_ attracted to you. And I trust you."

Edward inhaled deeply and slowly nodded. "Okay…"

"Okay," I breathed.

"Okay," he grinned. "What's next?"

I smiled and took his face in my hands, pulling him to me for a kiss. _Yes, good Bella. Kissing is always a good idea._ For an immeasurable amount of time we were there in the pseudo-darkness, kissing at sporadic rhythms—our tongues fighting for control. His hands wandered and finally were making their way up my legs and under my dress, his fingers brushing against the sides of my favorite pair of La Perla's. He groaned. "Bella," his voice dropped a register, "Are those…" he gulped.

Smirking I kissed him. "La Perla."

"Fuck," he murmured. He looked up at me. "I'm taking you back."

"Why?" I smirked. "Do you want them as a souvenir?" _WHOA? Where the hell did that come from?_

Edward gaped for several moments before taking a deep breath. "Because if we stay here I don't think I could control myself."

I then noticed how hot I felt, his hands still up my dress, so close to where my body wanted them. "But…"

"Bella," he sighed. "If we stay here…" Edward pursed his lip., "If we stay I might not be able to control myself…with you in that position…propositioning me…" He hands receded and settled on my hips. "It would be better to wait."

I slowly nodded and stood up, offering him my hand. Edward grinned as he took it before scooping me back in his arms, carrying me back to the car. Our ride home was pleasant, him holding my hand—bringing it to his lips to occasionally kiss.

We got to my apartment and once we got to my door, I turned towards him. "Do you want to come in?"

Edward's eyes clouded over and he pinned me against the door, kissing my roughly—his tongue assaulting my mouth. I giggled as I backed my head out of the kiss. "Is that my answer?"

He rested his forehead against mine, panting. "Bella, I don't think tonight would be the best night."

"Okay," I whispered. I unlocked my door and was thankful to find my apartment dark and silent. "Good night, Edward."

"Good night, Bella."


	11. Let Fall Upon Its Back

Being with Edward was like drinking for a long period of time. Whenever you are drinking you feel great. Buzzed. Careless. Happy. But then you stop drinking and you start to sober up. Then you feel empty. Like there is something missing.

I woke up 9am Sunday morning feeling empty.

Trying to distract myself I puttered around the kitchen—trying to use coffee as a medium to keep me from thinking about Edward. But it did not work very well, I still kept thinking about him.

Thankfully my phone rang; I was too excited at the idea of a distraction that I didn't look at the caller ID. "Hello?" I answered.

"Good morning."

It was _him._ My stomach flipped, my heart fluttered, and I inwardly hated myself for being so feminine at that moment.

"Good morning, Edward."

I swear I could hear him smile through the phone, "How does breakfast sound to you?"

"Fantastic."

"Great! I'll pick you up for brunch in about an hour…is that alright?"

"Brunch?" I stuttered.

"After every large celebration my mother hosts, there is a following Sunday brunch."

I started to panic, "But…how would that look? You. Bringing. Me." I started to gulp between every word, trying to keep my voice sounding as even as possible.

He chuckled softly, "I'll explain it when I come and get you. Don't worry, Bella."

Click.

I immediately panicked. What in the world was Edward thinking? And what would I wear? As if I was on auto-pilot, I called Alice.

"Bella! Edward just told me you were coming to brunch!"

"What? When?" I asked, in quick succession.

I heard her tinkering laugh, "He showed up at the house about half an hour ago with some groceries my mother needed. It was quite cute Bella, he was stammering to Mom about if he should bring his girlfriend by…Edward was so nervous, scratching the back of his neck and everything. Mom was so ex—"

"Alice!" I interrupted, "What should I wear?" The line was silent for several seconds. "Alice?"

"Navy a-line skirt, kelly green cardigan, white scoop neck t-shirt, and navy Tory Burch flats."

"How do you know what is in my closet?" I gaped. "And I don't own Tory Burch flats."

"I've seen your closet. And you really need to stop shopping at J. Crew." I heard her rummaging in the background, "You can borrow my shoes, I'll give them to Edward so you can get them…" More rummaging was heard in the background, then a low murmur. I could hear whom I assumed to be Edward telling Alice to "not be a pain" and after some inaudible whispering he agreed to bring the shoes.

"Edward will have the shoes when he comes to pick you up."

"Okay…thanks Alice!"

"My pleasure!" with that she hung up and I turned towards my closet, fishing out the pieces that Alice suggested for me to wear. My white t-shirt was dirty and I settled for my white tank top instead—hoping that my sweater would keep me warm enough. I started to get nervous, yes—I had already met Edward's parents…but that was as Alice's friend. Not Edward's girlfriend.

Girlfriend. I gulped. We really were doing this, weren't we? My hands shook as I brushed out tangles from the night before. This was fast, way too fast. We haven't even had a date yet and I was about to be introduced to his family as "the girlfriend."

_Calm the fuck down, Bella. One thing at a time. Talk to him. Use your words._

I tried to shut off my over-active brain and focus on getting ready. I got dressed, straightened my hair and tried to not pace a hole into my kitchen floor.

Finally there was a knock at the door and of course, Edward was there with a smirk on his face and looking a bit too handsome in his khakis and light blue button-down shirt.

"Good morning, Bella. These are for you." He extended his arms to hand me the signature pink and orange shoebox containing the shoes Alice was lending to me. I took the box in my hands but he wouldn't let go. Instead he pulled the box towards him, effectively drawing me closer to him and kissed me.

The smirk on his face grew. "That will never get old."

I felt a crimson blush rise on my cheeks and giggled, trying to wrench the box from his hands. "Oh, I am sure there will come a time when it might…" Finally I got the box and opened it, setting the shoes on the floor before stepping into them. Edward closed the door as he stepped into my apartment and grabbed me by the waist before gently pinning me against the wall.

Instead of the sweet kiss that acted as a greeting seconds before, this kiss was deep and intoxicating. So sinful, it should be illegal at such an early hour of the day. One hand wove through my hair while his other hand stayed on my hip, his thumb tracing circles on my hipbone.

My mind was getting cloudier by the second and right before I was sure that he would kiss me into sometime of glorious state of unconsciousness, Edward backed his head away and grinned. "Nope, still not old."

Although I was still conscious, I apparently lost my ability to either think clearly or form words as I breathily giggled and leaned in to kiss him again.

But an "Ahem" came from across the room, shaking me out of my reverie. Rosalie was standing in the doorway of her bedroom, wearing from what I could tell only a bathrobe, and had her arms crossed in front of her chest. Meanwhile Emmett was standing behind her, clad only in boxers, and nodding at Edward with a goofy grin on his face—obviously giving his stamp of approval.

Edward cleared his throat. "Bella and I should be on our way…see you guys later."

Rosalie started to smirk as I dashed to grab my purse before exiting with Edward— Emmett shouted a "Be good now!" as the door was closing.

"Edward, wait."

Edward turned around and looked at me. "Yes, Bella?"

"Isn't this moving a bit…fast? Meeting the parents as 'the girlfriend?'"

Sighing Edward stepped closer to me, shoving his hands in his pockets. "I'm sorry about this Bella, I really am. Problem is that a certain someone slipped it to my mother last night that I might have a new girlfriend…"

"Alice."

He nodded, and led me towards his car by the small of my back. "I would have made sure you were only present because you were Alice's friend. But she slipped up last night—putting me in a rather awkward and adolescent situation this morning asking to invite you since my mother was not subtle in dropping hints that she wanted to meet you.

"I understand if this is too fast for you Bella, but Alice did mean no harm. I think her excitement overcame her a bit. It's a bit of a conundrum, I know—trying to find the right balance for us. If you want, I can say you were unavailable, but this would mean a lot to my mother."

Nodding, I replied. "We're in this together right?"

"Right. And if anything happens, just go along with what I say."

I nodded once. "So tell me about this brunch."

Edward immediately grinned. "After every large celebration, my mother hosts a brunch the morning after. Only close friends and family are allowed. Mom makes everything herself for each brunch, with the exceptions being the brunches after a birthday."

"Why birthdays?" Edward opened my car door for me and I slipped in. He closed it and walked in front of the car and got in the driver's seat.

"Birthday parties in my family tend to get rather…unhinged. Interesting shenanigans have happened in the past. People will spend the night in nearby hotels or crash at our house. We unofficially call those brunches 'Hair of the Dog Mornings.' Anything goes with those—some people come downstairs in their pajamas or the same clothes from the night before. Since the assumption is that we would all be hungover, my mother has the food brought in.

"Brunches like this morning are decidedly more formal, but definitely still enjoyable."

I played with a loose string on the hem of my skirt. "Who will be there?"

Edward clicked his tongue a few times. "My mother, some of my cousins from New York, Alice, Jasper, some friends of ours…some old friends of my mother."

"What about your dad?"

He chuckled. "At the hospital. Mom always jokes that the hospital is his second wife."

I watched houses pass me by and I tried to figure out which one was his family's house. Finally we pulled up in a driveway to a house that I hadn't considered, but at the same time was not predictable. I was standing in front of a red brick Colonial style house. It was large, but it wasn't obvious in its size—not like the McMansions that are prevalent in almost every affluent area of a US suburb.

Edward came up to me. "You ready?"

I noticed he was carrying a case of champagne. "Edward, I didn't bring a hostess gift!"

Chuckling, he led the way to the front door. "You coming with me is a gift in and of itself for my mother. You'll see." And with that, he opened the front door and walked into the house. We had brief seconds to ourselves in the front hall, the noises from the back of the house almost muted. Then Edward called out, "Mom, where do you want the champagne?"

Mrs. Cullen appeared in the front hall, just a beautiful as she was the night before. She had a white, lacy apron tied across her waist that I felt was too pretty to be functional.

My hands became clammy and I nervously tried not to obviously wipe them off on my skirt. How the hell would Edward and I pull this off?

Mrs. Cullen's eyes fell upon me and an instant look of recognition crossed her face. "Bella! So glad you could make it!" She turned toward Edward. "I thought you were bringing your new girlfriend, Edward."

Edward visibly gulped. "Mom…Bella is my girlfriend."

Immediately her eyes lit up. "Oh! Please excuse my mistake Bella."

I nervously grinned. "No problem Mrs. Cullen."

"Esme, call me Esme." She started to lead me towards the back of the house. "So you and Edward met through Alice I presume? Would you like anything to drink?" Esme turned her head behind us. "Edward, bring two bottles into the kitchen and put the rest of the Dom in the chiller in the garage."

Esme led me into the kitchen where there were several people milling about. "Bella, what can I get for you? A mimosa?"

I smiled. "A mimosa would be _great._"

Esme handed me a mimosa and led me by the arm again. "Now these are our cousins from New York…Tanya and Irina. Tanya, Irina—this is Edward's new girlfriend, Bella."

I am rarely intimidated by women based on her appearance alone. Example: I live with Rosalie. But these two women, they were something else--statuesque and radiating a cosmopolitan aura. They both shook my hand and greeted me with genuine interest.

We were exchanging the typical getting-to-know-you chatter, where we were from, what we did, et cetera et cetera.

"So, Bella," Tanya said, sipping her mimosa. "How did you meet Edward?"

I tried not to choke on the sip of mimosa traveling down my esophagus. "We met through Alice."

Tanya nodded. "I haven't seen you at any family events…how long have you known Alice?"

_Don't mess this up, Bella. Play cool. Answer her 20 fucking questions and then some._

"We haven't known each other for too long….but you know Alice, she's rather magnetic."

Tanya furrowed her brows together as she sipped again. "I am assuming that you met Alice through school?"

What is with this girl and asking for every minute detail?

But at that moment, Edward became my saving grace. I felt him walk up to me, wrapping his arm around my waist. "Bella and Alice met in their invented languages class last semester."

Finally Irina, the oddly quiet one spoke up. "What exactly is that class about?"

Edward spoke up for me again. "They learned about the structure of languages and how people come to create languages. You know—syntax, pronunciations, punctuation. That kind of thing."

Tanya grinned. "You are such a nerd, Edward. What languages did you learn?"

This time she was looking directly at me. _That cow_. _Quick Bella—think of invented languages!_ "Umm…" I heard myself speak. "Elvish, Klingon…"

Irina snorted. "They teach Klingon at Dartmouth? So glad we went to Princeton instead."

Edward piped in. "Didn't you guys also learn Esperanto?"

_What the hell am I doing??_

I nodded. "Uh huh…" Edward told me to go along with what he was saying and I placed a lot of trust that he would not lead me astray in the conversation. _He owes me. Big time._

Irina saw Alice walking by our group and called out. "Alice—say something in Klingon!"

Alice looked confused and said something—I had no idea if it was Klingon or not. I'd just have to pretend I understood and hope they didn't ask me what it meant. Alice gave me a small wave and kept walking.

Turning towards me again, Irina asked, "What did she say?"

My stomach sank and I tried to come up with something. Then I had a brief out of body experience. "Live long and prosper."

Edward started laughing and Tanya looked somewhat amused while Irina had a confused look on her face. Thankfully the subject of the conversation turned. Tanya spoke up after the laughter died down. "Bella, what do you plan on doing after graduation?"

Crap. It was that question again. One of my least favorite things to be asked.

"I don't really know yet, Tanya. I'm trying to keep my options open right now." I needed out of the conversation…the overly beautiful and nosy cousins were almost suffocating me. "Please, excuse me."

_The 67__th__ time I have said that line in the past few months._

I walked to the French doors that led to the backyard, where more people were milling around. After several moment of fumbling with the doorknob I felt a cool breeze hit my face. And instantly, I felt better.

Looking down I didn't realize that during the rather stressful conversation I had drained my mimosa. I saw a tray of them and exchanged glasses. Although there were more people out here than in the kitchen, I felt better. More anonymous.

"Bella!" Alice's bell-like voice came from behind me. "I am so glad you came and you look so cute!" She took me by the arm and pulled me away from the few clusters of people. "What was with Irina asking me to speak Klingon?"

"They were asking me all sorts of questions about how I met Edward and you…and Edward made something up about us being in an invented languages class together and while pretending to know what the hell the class was about said we learned Klingon. Wha—"

Alice cut me off. "One. Stop freaking out—Tanya and Irina are harmless. They show up to about two to three of our events each year and honestly, they are just nosy. They like knowing what goes on with everybody. Two. Why did you make us speak Klingon? Couldn't you have chosen something cooler? Like…Elvish?"

"I did say Elvish, Alice! What did you say?"

She shrugged and sipped her drink. "I just made up sounds…did they ask what I said?"

"I said 'live long and prosper.'"

Alice groaned. "Bella…." She extended the "A." "You are ruining any chance of me seeming cool enough for those two for them to pull any strings for me!"

"What?"

"Tanya just got hired by Ralph Lauren to be a lead designer."

"Oh." I was silent and focused on sipping my drink. I was Edward exit the house and look around the crowd for me—finally spotting me with Alice.

"Bella, I am so sorry about that. That's how Tanya and Irina are…" Edward apologized as he came up to me.

"Relax Edward, I already told her that."

Edward smiled and held my hand. "Let me show you around the place." For the next half hour Edward and I were able to avoid the other party attendees as he led me on a tour of his childhood home. I loved it—it was another way for me to get to know him. I saw baby pictures, pictures of him and Alice on first days of school, and family pictures on vacations—Jackson Hole, Hawaii, New York, London. Through the pictures I learned that Edward was an adept skier, enjoyed navy cardigans a bit too much when he was younger, and that Alice forced him to play Barbie with him.

"And this," Edward opened a bedroom door, "was my room."

To be honest, it was anticlimactic. Navy walls with white trim and textiles. I sat down on his bed. "Let me guess…your mom redecorated?"

He nodded and sat next to me. "Very little here is mine…I think the swimming trophies on top of the linen press are it."

"You were a swimmer?"

He briefly smiled. "Used to be, will still do a few laps every once and a while."

We sat there, in content silence for a while. A black cat strolled into the room. Edward groaned.

"What?" I asked.

"That's Sam. He's Alice's cat."

I looked back at Sam, who had sat in front of the two of us and stated to stare at me. "So?"

Edward leaned forward and held his head in his hands, his thumbs massaging his temples. "You'll see."

And see I did. "E—Edward?" I glanced between him and the cat. "Is he…masturbating?"

Edward nodded. "Ughh, Sam! Out!" He waved his hands, shooing Sam out of the room. He sheepishly grinned. "Sorry about that."

I nodded back in understanding. "I want to see your place."

He gulped. "Alright…we should go downstairs. Mingle and eat a bit and then we can go." Edward started to scratch the back of his neck and fidgeted with his sleeves as we walked out of his room.

"Awww, are you shy about me seeing your place?" I teased.

"No, my sister's cat just masturbated while staring at you. Please excuse the momentary mortification I am experiencing right now." Edward took my hand and led me downstairs and into the garden again.

This time Edward stayed with me the entire time and we mostly stayed with Alice and Jasper. Awkward conversations with inquiring family members were avoided and for the most part I was able to enjoy myself in the Cullen's rather impressive backyard. When we decided it was time to depart we bid his mother goodbye and apparently there was an excess of champagne because she sent me home with a bottle.

Edward was fidgeting the entire drive—picking at the steering wheel, drumming his fingers on the side of the door. The atmosphere started to become tense.

"You are nervous," I said.

He glanced at me before turning. "What?"

"You are nervous. Why? You've seen my place…you should not be nervous."

Edward chuckled. "Bella, all I have seen is your living room."

I crossed my arms. "Fine. We can also do a tour of my place too if you would like."

We slowed to a stop and Edward pointed outside. "This is my place."

I hadn't realized that we had pulled into a parking space in front of an apartment building. It had to be relatively new—the pale brick wasn't showing signs of dirt or age and the architecture didn't quite blend in with the typical colonial styling seen throughout most of Hanover.

Edward led me up a flight of stairs and unlocked a door numbered "23." I was ushered into the front hallway and with the early afternoon sunlight I was able to navigate without any artificial light.

This was more what I imagined whenever I thought about where Edward would live—there were hardwood floors, an entire wall of floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, and lots of windows that offered a view of the courtyard.

I turned to Edward, smiling. "I love it here…I can see you here." I gestured towards the brown leather couch that looked incredibly inviting. "It's….you." Before wandering around his living room, I slipped off my shoes. I looked back at Edward, whose brows were furrowed.

Grinning, I sat on his couch and glanced at the assorted books and magazines that covered his coffee table. I looked back at Edward. "What?"

Slowly, he grinned. "Want to see the rest?" I jumped up and held out my hand, which he took before showing me his kitchen, which honestly looked like no one has ever used it, and his guest room before opening the door to his bedroom.

His bedroom, like the living room had an entire wall devoted to bookshelves. A window allowed sunlight to spill into the center of the room, almost drawing focus to the bed covered in navy bedding.

I sat on his bed and grinned. "You have down comforters." He smirked. Then, I leaned back, my upper body lying on the bed with my legs still dangling off of the edge. I reached an arm out and swatted at a pillow. "Mmmmm, and down pillows too…I coul—"

Edward abruptly cut me off as he laid next to me and pulled me on top of him.

I giggled. "What?"

He smirked. "I like you here…"

"Here as in your bed."

"You said it."

"You're predictable."

He grinned. "I can't help it." Edward brushed a lock of hair behind my ear. "You just…do that to me, Bella. It's like…there is some magnetic force that is so hard to resist." His voice hand dropped a register and one of his hands cupped my cheek. "Let me know if I ever…come on too strong for you."

"Sometimes…most of the times," I whispered. "I feel the same way."

I don't think either of us thought about what we both did next, it was almost like a reflex as we leaned in towards each other and kissed—both of us fighting to be dominant.

He won, rolling over and successfully pinning me against the bed. My mind was returning to the blissfully cloudy state of mind that his wicked tongue brought me to. My hands found their way into his hair, my fingers tangling within his messy, bronze locks.

Meanwhile his hands traveled to my cardigan and started unbuttoning it. I let out a small gasp at the sensation of his hands and I felt him smirk. My proverbial inner-Bella was ecstatic, thrashing her head—tossing her hair side-to-side and screaming "yes, yes, YES!"

I don't know how or when it happened, but as he slipped my cardigan off and dropped it on the floor I noticed that we were fully on the bed—my legs weren't dangling off of the edge anymore. But that thought quickly fell into the fog of my brain as I felt Edward move my tank top and bra strap down my arm and his lips make their path starting at my neck down my shoulder, his tongue laving in a crevice every so often.

My body started to tingle, the telltale dull throb between my legs came, and the inner-Bella continued her rejoicing—waving the Kelly green cardigan over her head as if some dramatic athletic victory had just commenced. I couldn't be happier, unorthodox to be sure, but this was what I finally wanted in a relation—the desire, passion, and chemistry. I thought to myself that this couldn't get any better.

But it did. His lips found mine again and he pressed his groin, I immediately knew that he wanted the same thing as me. Consequences and agreements be damned. I wanted this—I needed this. My hand wandered down to his belt and I tried to unfasten it with one hand. His hand stopped me and moved my entire arm so it lay flat over my head.

"Bella," he said brusquely. "Be good…"

Inner Bella ripped off the tank top and threw it in his face. "Take me now!!" she screamed. I couldn't resort to such measures as I felt his touch, feather soft on me knee. Then my inner thigh.

I moaned, loudly. I couldn't help it. It was in those few moments that I realized how sexually deprived I was—from years of mediocre sex and the recent oh-too-colorful dreams of Edward where I am positive we broke every law in the world when it came to sexual practices…in the boy-girl aspect, of course.

I needed this. I deserved this.

His fingers latched onto the sides of my underwear and with an impish grin, he slowly—much too slowly inched them down my legs and finally, they fell to the floor. A silent moment passed, with our eyes locked to the others, then I felt his fingers return and they started to explore.

And oh. My. God. He was talented. One hand immediately flew to his scalp, taking permanent residence in his hair while my other hand gripped the bedding, twisting it into a circle.

He kissed me again and when I felt one finger enter I moaned, loudly.

"Do it again." He ordered, inserting another finger. I felt both fingers start to curl and my eyes jolted open and I moaned again, louder._ If that wasn't a turn-on, I don't know what is._ Inner Bella passed out.

My mind was blissfully incoherent, I could only think of one thing—more. I needed more. My grasp on his comforter grew tighter and they were being rung tighter and tighter into a spiral as I felt him…he was everywhere. I couldn't think of a single nerve that he wasn't somehow affecting.

Then, after his skilled manipulation, I felt it. My grip on the comforter tightened even more and then I felt light as a feather…like I was falling into the rabbit hole. Down I gladly went.

I was panting. And sated. I grinned up at Edward. "Whatever happened to us taking this slow?"

He smirked. "Bella, I don't think there is anything slow for the two of us."

We both laughed and held each other for a bit, slipping in and out of sleep. I think the clock read 3:45 when Edward sat up. "I should probably get you back home…you probably have studying to do…."

I grabbed his hand and pulled him towards me and I kissed him gently. "You are more fun than studying…"

He grinned and stood up, pulling me up with him. "Don't get me started again, Bella. We both know how that will end."

This time, I smirked. I picked up my cardigan off of the floor and put it back on. Then I picked up the pair of lacey underwear I so carefully picked out earlier that morning and slipped them into a front pocket of his slacks. "Consider them a gift," I murmured.

I turned away from him, trying to hide my blushing face from him. It was so strange, but every time I did something that was somewhat out of character for me—like giving him a pair of panties, I loved my brazen nature but my sensible side was horrified.

But nothing about Edward and I was sensible…today was like we were sealing the deal. This was it. We would both being going down the ring of fire together.

The drive home was tension-filled—Edward and I kept sneaking flirtatious glances at each other and at a stoplight he caught me smirking at him.

"Yes, Bella? Do you need a reminder of earlier? Your generous gift will only make it easier for me."

His free hand started to travel towards my skirt and I playfully smacked it away, "Noooo!" I giggled.

Edward smirked the rest of the way home and as he kissed me good-bye at my door, I swear I felt one of his hands starting to wander up my skirt.

I saw Edward again on Monday—apparently we both couldn't get enough of the other's company. Rosalie was out so he agreed to come over. I was able to show him my place, which after seeing his place, felt to be much inferior. I don't know how we were able to do it, but somehow we were behaving ourselves.

"Bella, what are your plans after graduation?"

I turned my head away from watching the news and looked at him. "I don't know."

"You could teach…"

"I hate kids."

"What about getting your PhD and teaching at a university?" I shrugged and he sighed. "Law school?"

I laughed. "What?"

"You are a fairly logical person, Bella. Your arguments in class are always well-thought out and valid."

I started to play with a throw pillow that was on the couch. "But I don't like arguing with people…"

Edward wrapped his arm around my shoulders. "There are many types of law…like contract. You would probably be good at that—writing contracts, finding loopholes, arguing for loopholes. Just take the LSAT for the hell of it Bella, you might surprise yourself."

I shrugged. "I'll think about it."

He kissed my cheek. "K. I should go—I have early office hours for my intro class."

I kissed him and he left, and I stayed on the couch—considering his suggestion. After several minutes I got up, and decided it was a good night for baking. I don't think Rosalie was happy to see four dozen chocolate chip cookies in the kitchen when she got back from Emmett's later that night. She rolled her eyes, took two cookies, and went into her room.

Tuesday's class with Edward was gloriously painful. My nervous jitters and butterflies that I felt when seeing him had been replaced—now I felt warm and happy, like when you take blankets out of the dryer and immediately cuddle in them.

The entire class we were trying to avoid each other's eyes, but neither of us were very good at it—any eye contact would make of us both slightly smile and as for me, it made me feel even more content. Alice was entertained by our show; she just rolled her eyes and shook her head throughout the class.

At the end of class, Edward handed back everyone's graded first papers. I turned to the back page of mine and saw a circled red 98 with "good job!" written next to it. Glancing at the other pages of my papers I saw nothing—no comments, corrections or comments. I was confused, but not angry.

The anger came when I overheard the girls behind me groaning about their grades. I think they were the same two that earlier in the semester were talking about their friend Tor's antics with Jasper.

"Ugh, that bastard…he gave me an 80! What did you get?"

"82…I thought my paper was so good too!"

_How dare he! _I turned to Alice. "Alice, what did you get?"

She turned her paper to me. "93."

Once most of the class filtered out of the room I walked up to Edward.

"Hello Miss Swan," he said with a slight smirk on his face. He crossed his arms. "What can I do for you?"

I rolled my eyes at his subtle advance. "New rule. Jasper grades my work," I hissed.

He grinned. "He already does. I always think ahead Miss Swan. See you later."

My eyes narrowed and glanced at Jasper, who was talking to Alice. I nodded. "See you later, _Dr. Cullen._" And with that, I exited the room.


	12. Start a Scene or Two

**I apologize for my over-extended absence…my Mac stopped saving any addition I made to my story. Plus nothing kills your desire to write than working 45+ hour weeks.**

**This is not much, but I wanted to give you lovely readers SOMETHING as a holiday present.**

**Special thanks to: Meli, the LOVELY and supportive ladies at The_Gazebo, and my fabuloussssss beta—xmyrin.**

**To all of my reviewers—THANK YOU! **

**I do not own Twilight or its characters. Same to any other literary/television/video game/musical reference made. I am just a bookworm. However, I do own: a new LG TV, Season 1 of Mad Men (Don Draper is the fucking bomb, y'all), and a collection of plastic cups that document my previous life in Texas.**

* * *

I over-reacted when I shouldn't have, I acknowledge that fact. But I felt something in me snap… I am a control-freak about so many things in my life—fashion exempt from that statement. That is partially the reason I felt myself trying to pull away from falling into the passionate, fiery spiral that I knew would be Edward. I had jumped blindly but still had the pretense that I would have elements of control.

Seeing the high grade with no feedback made me snap—I never liked blatant favoritism, I always wanted to get the grades that I earned. But, I should not have lashed out at Edward and should have given him benefit of the doubt—he knew better than to grade my paper.

But apologizing is not a trait of someone who likes or craves control. I demolished half a jar of peanut butter as my dinner as an attempt to assuage the control-freak portion of my subconscious. Plus Rosalie was not home so I figured any attempt to cook would be futile.

I was polishing off my glass of milk when the doorbell rang. I shuffled over to the door and opened it, finding Edward smirking on my doorstop. Opening the door wider, I backed up—allowing him to enter my apartment. I faced him after shutting the door and saw that he had a smug grin on his face and his hands were jammed into the front pockets of his jeans.

"Ugh, fine you smug bastard. I apologize for jumping down your throat in class."

"What?" A hand cupped his ear. "What was that?"

I playfully punched his shoulder. "Ha. Ha. You are so funny," I sarcastically quipped.

Edward's hand caught my wrist and pulled me against his chest. "You're right though…and I should have let you know that Jasper was grading your work." I smiled at the sensation of his breath tickling my face. "In fact, Bella Swan, you have charmed me since our first coffee…date. I have been so smitten by your graces that I would have given you straight 100's after that first day. That was when I told Jasper that he would be grading all of your work."

I was beaming for a millisecond before Edward's lips brushed over mine. My heart quickened and my breath caught the moment of contact—I loved, nay _craved_ the feeling I had when kissing Edward. He was like a drug. My heroin.

"Plus," he whispered. "You are _hot_ when ticked off."

Edward leaned in to kiss me again, but I ducked out of the kiss, giggling. "Sorry," I apologized. "I need to brush my teeth….I just ate a lot of peanut butter…"

I entered my bathroom, turned on the light, and started brushing my teeth. Edward entered and wrapped his arms around my waist. "You know, I have always liked peanut butter…"

I spat into the sink and kept brushing. "I was trying to be polite." But the toothbrush in my mouth made it jumbled, more like "I wuff dying to be dolife." Edward didn't help my teeth-brushing end quickly, he kept pulling me closer to his chest, peppering my neck with kisses.

"We should take this somewhere else," I said.

Edward grinned, I felt his lips curl against my neck. "I see we agree then." His hands moved lower on my back and he leaned toward my ear. "Love the shorts."

I looked down, I was wearing a pair of cotton shorts that were extremely short and rather form fitting—Rosalie called them "lounge shorts" and gave me my first pair our freshman year for Christmas. "I do too," I whispered in his ear.

He growled, I think. But before I could process the next thought Edward scooped me up, my legs wrapped around his waist, and he carried me to my bed. He gently dropped me on my mattress and I giggled as I bounced from the force of the drop. As he crawled over me I heard a dull roar in my ears. A victory chant of sorts. "Sexy times. Sexy times. Sexy times with Edward," chanted my inner Bella.

It's scary that my inner me was starting to sound like an over-eager Indian girl who loves celebrity gossip, online shopping, and a certain temp named Ryan.

Even scarier is loud banging on your bedroom door when your boyfriend's hands are up your shirt.

"BEELLLLLAAAAA...OH, BEEEEELLLLLLLLAAAAAAAAAA!!" _Oh fuck you, Emmett._

"Fuck." I mumbled between kisses. My hands were tangling in Edward's hair as I tried to see if it was possible to have him closer than we already were.

"Yes, please." Edward mumbled while lifting my shirt over my head.

"BEEEELLLLLAAAAAAA!!! IS EDWARD IN THERE WITH YOU? ARE YOU HAVING….INTIMATE RELATIONS?"

Edward pulled away and sat up, "That's it." He took two large steps across my room and locked my door; then he roughly backed into the wall next to it—with a wide smirk on his face.

I heard Emmett laugh through the door. "OOOOHHHHH BELLLLLAAAA! YOU _ARE _HAVING SEXY TIMES!"

_I am never using that phrase again._ But even though Emmett was being an irritating asshole, Edward's pound into the wall insinuating to Emmet that we were indeed going at it against a wall turned me on even more. I practically leapt onto him. "He'll have to stop soon," I grumbled. I thought that moment was an appropriate one to start unbuttoning Edward's shirt.

"GO, BELLA! GO, BELLA! GO, BELLA! GO, BELLA!"

"That's. It." I untangled my body from Edward's and nearly tripped on my way to unlock the door and throw it open. "What the FUCK is your problem? Where's Rosalie?"

Emmet didn't reply. Instead he smirked and I realized that all I was wearing were my shorts and a lacy bra. I doubt my tousled hair and heaving chest were helping matters. _Fuck my life._ I crossed my arms and repeated, "Where is Rosalie?"

"EMMETT!" Rosalie appeared out of nowhere and threw a hand over Emmett's eyes. "Sorry Bella, he saw a car in our guest parking spot and ran in here with my key—leaving me with the groceries and the PS2."

I nodded. "Understandable, thanks for the explanation, Rosie."

Rosalie smiled, her hand still over Emmett's eyes. "No problem, might want to change. The boys are coming over for a Madden Football tournament."

"I think I'll just stay in here," I said, jutting a thumb into the room behind my shoulder. I felt Edward's head peer out behind me and Rosalie nodded in acknowledgment to him.

"Bad idea Bells, Mike is coming over."

I rolled my eyes. "Fine…be right out." I shut the door and looked at Edward, "You should probably go. The guys are about to come over."

He started to button up his shirt, covering up the chest I had just started to appreciate. "The guys?"

"Yeah, a bunch of Emmett's friends. They like to watch football games and play video games here since they prefer our TV."

"Who's Mike?"

I leaned on the doorknob. "Ex-boyfriend."

Edward nodded once. "Cool…I'm staying." He kissed my forehead and opened the door. "Put some clothes on." With a light tap on my rear, Edward closed the door behind him and I heard him give Emmett some kind of man-greeting.

As I was changing my pants and slipping on a white tank top, Rosalie slipped into my room. "I heard Emmett say 'sexy times' earlier."

I rolled my eyes and turned towards her. "He interrupted, thus said 'sexy times' never commenced."

Rosalie grinned. "I doubt Emmett realizes what a cockblock he is…especially to himself." She picked up a random bottle of nail polish and inspected the color. "Don't worry, he won't be getting any tonight."

I threw on an old, soft t-shirt. "Good." Our doorbell rang and our apartment was an instant explosion of noise. By the time Rosalie and I emerged Emmett was bartering with Edward.

"Look, buddy—I know I gave you first choice, but are you sure you really want Texas over Florida? Don't get me wrong, I'll take Florida, but are you sure that you don't want them? They have Tim Tebow…"

Edward smirked at me and looked back at Emmett. "But I have Colt McCoy."

Emmett clenched his jaw before replying. "Fine. I'd take Tim Tebow over Colt McCoy any day…."

Rosalie flung herself on the couch next to Emmett. "I don't know babe, he also has Jordan Shipley…that dreamboat."

"WHAT THE HELL!?!" Emmet almost dropped his controller and whipped his head to face Rosalie. "How do you know about him?"

"I date you. You live and breathe college football." Rosalie glanced up at me. "Who do you prefer, Bella?"

I chuckled, "I don't know—that Tim Tebow is pretty attractive…"

Emmett threw his hands up in the air. "COME ON guys! You CANNOT judge a team by how attractive they are!"

I shrugged and went into the kitchen, Edward followed me—after patting Ben on the shoulder and recommending for him to pick Penn State or Ohio State. "Hey," he murmured while grinning at me.

"Hi," I opened the fridge and pulled out a diet Coke. "Look," I whispered. "Try not to be all….boyfriend-y in front of Mike. He's a good guy and I don't think he is fully over our relationship."

His grin widened. "I'm your boyfriend?" he teased.

I rolled my eyes and smacked his arm. "Be nice to him, he's still a friend. But feel free to beat him during the game."

"Done and done," Edward kissed me cheek before joining the rest of the guys in the living room.

And Edward won, on Dynasty or Heisman Level…or something like that. I wasn't paying attention to the game. But he stayed true to his word and kept all boyfriend-y interactions with me minimal, however Mike still figured it out. As I was in the kitchen, gathering beverages for everyone he stopped me in front of the fridge.

"So you are dating someone new?" he asked, nervously scratching the back of his neck.

I cleared my throat. "Yeah."

"Is he good to you?"

"Very."

Mike slowly nodded. "As long as you are happy and he treats you well, I am happy for you, Bella."

I exhaled out of relief. "Thanks, Mike. It's nice to hear that."

"But, if you ever need me to kick his ass, let me know and I will do it."

The rest of the evening was uneventful, Edward and I fibbed a little when asked how we met each other and what he did as a career (we left it vague—through Alice and he taught). Emmett mentioned Halloween and invited everyone to "a wicked party" the week before that a friend of his was hosting. Edward eagerly accepted and winked at me as I glared at him, claiming to "have the perfect costume."

When Edward left that night, he kissed my forehead and promised we would be fine going to the Halloween party—no one would know it would be him.

I was still skeptical.


End file.
